The Dark Lords of Nerima
by claymade
Summary: Ranma and Ryouga are no strangers to trouble. But when they accidentally convince both the Sailor Senshi and the Dark Kingdom that they're megalomaniacal villains bent on world domination, trouble starts to take on a whole new meaning.
1. Sniper's Gambit

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Chronological Note:** Relative to the timeline of the Ranma 1/2 manga, this story is set several weeks before the start of the Shi Shi Hokodan arc.

* * *

**The Dark Lords of Nerima**

Chapter One: Sniper's Gambit

A thin bead of sweat trickled slowly down the side of Beneda's face. The youma's cheek twitched, but she did not move to brush the offending droplet away. She remained focused, staring down through the skylight into the public library beneath her.

Like most youma, she was female in appearance—though, like most youma, she could hardly be mistaken for a human on anything resembling close inspection. Her skin was a dark shade of green, her eyes a sickly yellow, and her hair (or what passed for it) was made of a hard, gleaming, steel-like substance.

A second bead of sweat joined the first, and finally Beneda reached up and irritably wiped her face with her hand. _Damn this heat anyway,_ she thought. _Distracting me, when I need all my focus. I can't afford to screw this up!_ And with that, she resumed her vigil.

The library below was host to an exceptionally large crowd that day, children and adults both, milling everywhere. And if their milling had a more feverish quality than normal—well, that was only to be expected, considering the modifications that had been made to those books.

Beneda licked her lips, savoring the sensation. As a youma, she could feel the patterns of energy swirling about the place, draining from the humans below even as they ran back and forth snatching books off the shelves. She could sense where the energy was going, too—shunted across the interdimensional barrier to feed her imprisoned mistress.

And the amount of energy being collected was quite impressive. They had gathered enough here to sate even Queen Metallia's ravenous appetites for a quite a while. It had been a successful operation by any standards.

It would be even more successful once they accomplished the mission's _true_ goal, of course.

Beneda looked down through the skylight at the "librarian" running the main desk, snickering quietly at the nervous expression she was wearing. "Serves you right, Miss High-and-Mighty," she muttered gloatingly under her breath.

Because of their master Jadeite's favored tactics, infiltrator youma—those with the ability to assume the forms of humans—were always in the highest demand. That left the other youma—whether those who could possess objects, those who could possess humans, or simple grunts like Beneda—to take whatever scraps they could get in terms of distinguishing themselves in the eyes of their masters.

But not this time. This time, disguise abilities had only made the youma below ideal for the less-than-safe job of bait, while it would be Beneda who took the glory by killing the Sailor Senshi.

A shiver of excitement ran through Beneda at the thought. She pictured how it would go in her mind: the Senshi would come, drawn by this reckless and unsubtle energy-draining operation. They would enter the library, confront the youma in charge of it. And when they moved to "punish" the obvious threat—

With a simple thought, Beneda's right hand transformed into a huge, razor-sharp shuriken, which she aimed through the skylight.

—she would be ready for them.

A small grin crossed her face, as she began to imagine what would happen after that. Slayer of the Senshi! With that kind of glory to her name, surely her lowly station in Beryl's forces would be a thing of the past! The thought of no longer having to bow, scrape and abase herself before every higher ranking youma filled her with a giddy anticipation. Yes, this was her chance—and she was going to make good on it. Finally, fortune was beginning to turn her way!

She continued to daydream, imagining herself rising through the ranks to become Beryl's favorite, co-equal even with the Generals. She had just reached the point where she was about to use her newfound prestige to repay that arrogant youma Thetis for a long-ago humiliation, when her fantasies were interrupted by a sudden disturbance underneath her.

Beneda jerked back to attention, looking intently down through the skylight even as she hunkered low to the ground to conceal her presence as best she could. Something was going on down there, and if it was what she had been waiting for...

The crowd of humans below parted, and then three new figures stepped into view. They were all dressed in sailor fuku, the bright colors of their uniforms identifying them immediately. An electric thrill coursed through Beneda, equal parts excitement and fear. It was them!

Anxiously, she began to chew on her lower lip. The Senshi were directly beneath her—not yet in a position where she had a good angle on them. The middle one, with the long streamers of blonde hair, was talking now, addressing the librarian-youma, apparently giving some kind of speech.

"Come on..." Beneda begged in a whisper. "Move a little farther in. Just a little farther in..."

As if in reply to her plea, the three Senshi began to advance on the librarian youma, who backed quickly away in an attempt to draw her enemies further into the kill zone. Beneda could feel her every heartbeat, thudding in her chest. She had a shot—a clear shot at the Senshi's unprotected backs.

Now that the moment had come, she almost couldn't believe it. The Sailor Senshi—age-old nightmares of so many youma—were right in her sights. Slowly, carefully, she raised her arm, sighting along it as she aimed down through the skylight. She closed one eye, aiming her shuriken at the base of the blonde's neck. The first shot would take her head clean off.

Beneda took a deep breath—

—and saw something that made her blood freeze in her veins. Reflected in the glass of the skylight she was aiming through was the image of a man, tuxedo-clad, swooping down from the sky from behind her.

Reacting with a speed born of fear, she whirled away. An instant later, a blood-red rose cut through the air where she had just been standing. The stem embedded into the skylight, sending cracks spiderwebbing across it.

Beneda swung her arm up, targeting the descending figure. She opened fire, sending the shuriken spinning toward her foe—who knocked it aside with a single blow from the black cane he was holding.

With a growl, Beneda formed additional shuriken on each of her arms. But before she could fire either of them her assailant thrust his cane in her direction. The weapon stretched impossibly in his hands, spearing down from above to strike her square between the eyes. The impact flung her backward, arms flailing.

Directly onto the already-weakened skylight.

Her body crashed through it, falling in a shower of glass shards. She screamed, vertigo clawing at her as she plummeted the two stories to the ground. Then she hit—hard—glass crashing all around her. Pain blossomed through her body; even a youma's toughness had not been able to protect her completely.

But there was no time to dwell on how much it hurt. She knew she was in terrible danger, and she knew she could only count on herself to get out of it. And so, with great effort, she managed to climb to her hands and knees and look across the room.

Straight into the eyes of the assembled Sailor Senshi, staring back at her. For a moment everyone simply stood there, frozen—Beneda out of fear, the Senshi out of surprise at seeing a youma making such an unexpected entrance.

That shock lasted all of a second. Then, as one, everyone reacted. The blonde-haired Senshi reached up and snatched the tiara off her brow. The raven-haired Senshi focused a blazing point of fire at the tip of her fingers.

And Beneda ran like hell.

Her destination was a nearby group of bookshelves that offered some amount of cover. She covered the distance at a dead sprint, moving with a velocity she hadn't known she was capable of. Even as she ran, she could hear the Senshi unleashing their attacks behind her.

_"Moon Tiara Action!"_

_"Fire Soul!"_

Beneda dove forward in a roll that carried her the final few meters to the relative safety of the shelves. She felt the choking heat of the Fire Soul's near miss wash over her, even as she heard the whirring noise of the Moon Tiara slicing through the air above her.

Twisting herself as she came out of her roll, Beneda ended up on one knee, facing back the way she had come. She returned fire, launching a shuriken from each arm. But the Senshi scattered, and neither blade found their mark, embedding deep in the far wall instead.

There was a roar from the direction of the librarian's desk, and Beneda knew that the other youma had completed her transformation into her minotaur-like battle form. A swell of hope rose up in her chest...

...and then she heard the blonde repeat her cry of _"Moon Tiara Action!"_ followed by a howl of pain from the other youma. The feeling of hope was abruptly obliterated. It was three to one now—and in a fair fight she knew she couldn't even match the youma who had just been so handily destroyed.

But there was no time to ponder the worsening odds; already the Senshi in red was throwing another fireball in her direction. Beneda leaped back out of sight, just as another magical firestorm exploded where she had been standing. The force of the blast blew several of the nearby bookshelves into the air, sending them flipping end over end, scattering their books everywhere and ripping many apart at the bindings. Even as they fell their pages ignited, creating a rain of burning, fluttering paper.

Desperate to get away, Beneda fled deeper into the rows of shelves. She had no idea where she was going or how she could possibly hope to turn the tables. It was a panicked, thoughtless run, the instinctive reaction of a hunted animal. And it ended soon enough, as she ran herself into a corner on the far end of the library.

A small, strangled sob escaped her at the sight of the dead end—emphasis on the _dead_. Her earlier daydreams about the bright future awaiting her were mocking her now, as she saw how horribly wrong it had all gone. "It's not fair..." she whimpered to herself, as she looked wildly around for some means of escape. "It's just not _fair!_ This was supposed to be my _chance!_"

She slammed her fist helplessly into the blank wall. Already she could hear the footsteps of the Senshi closing in on her from behind, inexorable in their approach. She whirled, raising both arms and forming shuriken on each.

A moment later, the dark-haired Senshi rounded the corner of one of the shelves. Beneda fired as soon as she saw her, causing her target to quickly fling herself back the way she had come. The shuriken tore a notch out of the shelf at head height, but the Senshi had taken cover and was unscathed by the attack.

Quickly, she readied a replacement blade on that hand that had just fired, while keeping her other hand trained on the edge of the shelf—despite a slight trembling that she could not quite still.

"What's the matter, Senshi?" she called out tauntingly, trying to inject a note of bravado in her voice. "Scared? I almost got you there..."

A snort came from behind the bookshelf in reply. "You weren't even close," the Senshi said. But she was breathing hard, causing Beneda to wonder for a moment to what extent the young girl was putting up a front of fearlessness similar to her own.

"You can't be allowed to succeed..." came a second voice, quieter, but filled with determination. "Libraries are meant to be places of learning, and shouldn't be used for evil purposes!"

A third, more energetic voice followed. "Yeah!" it exclaimed. "And making a cowardly sneak attack like that is completely despicable! In the name of the Moon, we will punish you!"

"Big words, Senshi," the youma shot back. "I'll remember them when I'm cutting you apart."

Of course, she had no illusions about actually being able to accomplish that bluff. Instead her mind was racing, trying to think of some way to escape back to her master. She was trapped in this cul-de-sac, with the only way out blocked by all three Senshi. And worse, even if she—

The train of thought was abruptly cut off by a cry of _"Moon Tiara Action!"_ A moment later the glowing frisbee spun around the corner of the bookshelf, moving in an unnatural arc straight for Beneda's head—as though guided by something more than simple physics.

Instinctively, Beneda ducked away, and the tiara embedded harmlessly into the wall. But the damage had been done. In the time it had taken her to do that, the dark-haired Senshi had dove from cover. She now lay on the ground in a firing position, a fully charged Fire Soul blazing at her fingertips.

For the smallest fraction of an instant, the two of them locked eyes, and Beneda read her death there. There was no time to react, no time to think—except for one last, desperate plan that flashed through the youma's mind.

_"Fire Soul!"_

A huge blast of consuming fire roared toward her. With a defiant scream, Beneda threw herself sideways—slamming her shoulder into the bookshelf beside her. It began to topple over, taking her with it.

And then the Fire Soul hit her. Not a direct hit, but she could not completely escape it. She screamed again—in pain this time—as the searing heat washed over her body.

But she survived it, somehow. And the bookshelf continued to fall, striking the shelf next to it—causing that one to begin to tip as well. And then the next, and the next...

She scrambled across them as they fell, stumbling back out into the main section of the library. She could hear all three Senshi now chasing her. She had only seconds—if that. But she also had a plan. Running for all she was worth, she crossed the room and took a flying leap straight for one of the cowering groups of recently-enthralled humans.

And when she rolled back to her feet, she was holding a young boy in front of her, his neck trapped in the crook of her arm.

The chasing Senshi skidded abruptly to a stop. Grinning, Beneda raised one of her shuriken pressing it against the boy's neck. "Careful, Senshi," she crooned. "Keep your distance. You wouldn't want to _startle_ me, would you?"

Expressions of dismay crossed the faces of the blonde Senshi and the blue-haired Senshi—while the dark-haired Senshi looked furious at Beneda's tactic. But the youma wasn't afraid. There was no way they would dare attack now.

The little boy whimpered in her arms, clearly terrified, but she ignored it. Slowly, carefully, she began to back toward the main doors of the library, always being sure to keep her shield between herself and her enemies. The Senshi followed in lockstep, their expressions anxious, not drawing any nearer, nor any farther away.

The silence was broken only by their footfalls, and Beneda's ragged breathing. She bit back a curse as her vision wavered momentarily, almost blacking out. She had taken too much damage from the Fire Soul—every movement she made was agonizing, and she didn't know how much longer she could stay on her feet.

Finally, one of the Senshi spoke up. "Please, let him go!" the blonde-haired one begged, and Beneda was surprised to see that she practically had tears in her eyes. "He's just a kid!"

The youma barked a laugh at that, continuing to back away all the while. "Not a chance, Senshi. He's my ticket out of here."

"We won't stop you from leaving," protested the blonde earnestly. "We promise! Just let him go!"

"Well, that's a very kind offer," Beneda replied, sneering. "But I'm not nearly that gullible. And stay _back!_" The last was snarled at the dark-haired Senshi, who had been trying to surreptitiously inch a little closer.

The youma was almost at the library doors now. Suddenly, the blue-haired senshi spoke up. "How do we even know that you'll release the boy once you're free?" she asked.

"You don't," Beneda snapped back, blinking rapidly as her vision wavered again. She focused her will, trying not to show any sign of weakness to her enemies. "But he _will_ die for sure if you try anything stupid."

The youma felt her back hit the door that she had been heading toward, causing a swell of hope to rise up inside her. Maybe, just maybe, she might survive this after all!

She used her shoulder to push the door open, backing through it while keeping her eyes on the Senshi. "Now don't move from that spot," she said, preparing to descend the concrete stairs behind her to the sidewalk. "Because if I see even one sign of you following me, I'll—"

But her words were cut off as a rose shot down from directly above her, impaling her arm with its stem. Frantically she tried to move, but the rose's enchantment had frozen her in place, completely immobile. _No, no, no!_ her thoughts screamed._ Not now! I'm so close!_

The next moment, the black-clad attacker from before hurtled down from above to land next to her. His cane swung around in a powerful blow, catching her across the face. It snapped her head around, sending her spinning through the air. In the same motion the man snatched the boy from her arms, cradling the child and shielding him with his cape.

And then Beneda hit, falling down the long flight of exterior stairs, each impact against the concrete sending an explosion of pain shooting through her already-damaged body. A pained cry tore itself from her throat, as finally she rolled to a rest at the bottom.

Slowly, shakily, she raised her head to see the masked warrior looking down at her dispassionately. The boy was still held protectively in his arms; now that the danger was past, he was bawling into the older man's shoulder.

Even as she watched, the rest of the Senshi ran up to join the man—and Beneda knew her time was almost up. She could barely move for the pain, but she managed to stagger to her feet regardless. Every last part of her hurt, and the place on her arm where the rose was embedded was filled with sheer, white hot agony.

But the youma knew she had only one chance. Turning, she ran headlong into the nearby street. Car tires screeched and horns blared as vehicles swerved around her, but she ignored them as she charged toward the other side.

At any moment she expected to hear the sounds of pursuit behind her—but it never came. Instead she managed to make it safely across, whereupon she ducked immediately into the nearest side alley she could find and disappeared from sight.

* * *

Sailor Moon, pretty sailor-suited soldier of love and justice, looked anxiously at the crying young boy, only to breathe a sigh of relief when she found no injuries. That had been way too close.

"Thank goodness..." she whispered. Then looked up at the black-clad figure, her eyes glowing with adoration. "That was _so cool_, Tuxedo Kamen!"

The tuxedo-clad fighter accepted the young girl's customary praise with a small smile and a wave of his hand. "Only the foulest of villains would threaten a child in the pursuit of their goals," he declared solemnly. "Let this be an example to you of the kind of evil you are facing, Sailor Moon. Draw determination from this!"

As he spoke, he handed the young boy over to Sailor Moon, who accepted him hesitantly. Then, his speech finished, he leapt up to the library's roof.

"Wait!" called out Sailor Mercury, from her position next to Sailor Moon. "What about that last youma? Shouldn't we do something about her?"

Tuxedo Kamen glanced back over his shoulder, then shook his head. "Don't waste time trying to chase her down," he said. "The police will be here soon, and you should avoid unnecessary run-ins with them. Let her flee back to her master. Jadeite's method of dealing with failures will handle her for you."

He took a quick glance in the direction that the youma had disappeared, then looked back to the Senshi—particularly Mercury, who still looked troubled. "Besides," he assured them, "considering the enchantment that was on that rose and the damage she'd already sustained, she won't last long anyway."

* * *

Beneda ran blindly onward, only one coherent thought filling her—to put as much distance between her and the library as she could.

Her path was an unsteady one, weaving drunkenly back and forth down the length of this latest back alley, often crashing into walls. She could barely see straight, barely think, barely do anything except run.

But there was no true escape for her—and she knew it. The wound where the rose had stabbed her had grown steadily more and more agonizing. Jagged cracks were appearing in her arm, spreading out from the red flower imbedded there. She tried once again to wrench it out of her, but she was not strong enough to break the ties of the magic. Its power would tear her apart from the inside out, and in her weakened state there was nothing she could do to prevent that.

And yet she still continued to stumble onward, driven by some primal instinct, some basic fear. She had to get away, had to get away, had to—

She tripped. A piece of rubble in the alley caught her foot wrong, and she crashed headlong to the ground. And there she lay, sprawled out helplessly, unable to rise any more. All she could manage was to curl herself into a ball, whimpering quietly to herself.

_It's not fair..._ was the last thing that crossed her mind, before the raging blackness rose up to claim her thoughts. _It wasn't supposed to end like this... This was supposed to be my chance..._

* * *

A minute or two later her whimpering had died out completely, leaving the alleyway in silence. A silence that was suddenly broken by the sound of trudging footsteps.

For a moment that was all. Then, coming from the opposite end of the alley, a figure appeared—that of a young man. He was dressed in ragged, travel-stained clothes and wore a yellow-and-black bandana tied firmly around his head. On his back rested a large pack, with a red-colored umbrella strapped atop it.

The young man plodded resolutely down the alley, glancing around him from time to time. His face was screwed up in concentration, as though trying to puzzle out some incomprehensible mystery. At one point he made a low mumble under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like: "Where the hell am I _now_?"

So preoccupied was he with his own thoughts that he actually stumbled over the youma's prone form. He quickly caught his balance, however, and looked down angrily. "What in the—?"

His words broke off as he got his first glimpse of just what it was that had tripped him. A person. A woman! What was she doing here, lying on the ground like that? Quickly he knelt down, to check her body for injuries.

As he got a closer look, he began to register the more... unique... details of her physiology. _What is she?_ he wondered, perplexed. _I've seen a lot of weird stuff, but nothing like her before..._

Her strange appearance definitely gave him pause for a moment. But, weird-looking or no, she was a woman, and she seemed to be in some pretty serious trouble. He could hardly call himself a worthy martial artist if he just left her lying there. And going for help was out of the question; he'd certainly never find her again.

No, there was only one thing to do. He began to examine her closer, and quickly found the cracking wound around the rose. It now covered her whole arm and part of her shoulder. _Damn..._ he thought, wincing at the sight. _That can't be good._

He gave an experimental pull on the rose, only to find that somehow, it resisted his efforts to remove it. His lip twisted in annoyance. Then, noticing the wound was spreading with each second he wasted, he braced himself and gave the flower a determined yank.

It took him a second or two of straining, but the rose soon pulled free. _Strange,_ he thought. _I wouldn't have guessed such a little thing could get as stuck as that..._

A low sound, half-moan, half-sigh, shook him out of his contemplation. Looking up, he saw that the unconscious woman's wound had stopped growing for the moment—although she still looked to be in pretty bad shape.

He reached down gently, lifting her prone figure off the ground without apparent effort. _I have to find some place where I can set up camp and take a better look at her,_ he told himself. And with that he began to walk forward again, searching for such a location in the only way someone like him could—trial and error.

Even as he carried her, though, there was a tiny little voice in the back of his mind that warned against that course of action. A nagging little tweak of his danger sense that suggested, quietly but insistently, that this was perhaps _not_ the smartest thing that he had ever done in his sixteen years of life.

But he ignored the misgivings. He couldn't let vague, half-formed worries about this woman decide his course of action, not when she was so obviously in need of help.

And really. Just how much trouble could she possibly cause him anyway?


	2. Good Samaritan

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

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Chapter Two: Good Samaritan

Running.

She was running. Running without rest. Running without hope. She couldn't remember for how long, or even why. Mindless fear blocked out all conscious thought; she was ruled only by the instinctive, irrational dread of a hunted animal.

Her legs pounded across the pavement, as she fled blindly through dark, unknown streets. But it was futile, and she knew it. No matter how hard she ran, her pursuers continued to close in. Mercilessly. Relentlessly. Unstoppably.

She threw a glance back over her shoulder, and saw them behind her when she did so. Drawing nearer and nearer, stalking her every movement. Hemming her in. Hunting her down.

Without warning, a bladed tiara sliced through the air by her head, passing centimeters from her ear. She jerked reflexively away from the missed attack, but only ended up tripping herself. She fell headlong, skidding across the cement. But there was no time to nurse the pain—she clambered back to her feet and continued running.

Even as she did so, a blast of fire hit the ground just to her left, its searing heat washing over her. It was then that she realized that they were not missing her by accident. No, they were toying with her, playing before the kill.

But there was nothing she could do—nothing except run. And run she did.

Then a black-clad figure appeared, directly in her path. A red rose was held in his hand, poised to throw. She tried desperately to turn away, to run in another direction—but in a burst of terror found that she couldn't. She had lost all control of her body. She couldn't stop running toward him, couldn't even release the scream that was trapped inside her.

She could only watch, helpless, as he hurled the rose at her, its point gleaming as it flew...

* * *

Beneda woke up with a scream, arms thrashing.

For a moment she simply sat where she was, shoulders heaving as she gasped for breath. Wave after wave of pain washed over her, especially from her right arm. She clutched with her other hand at the source of the pain, doubling over. A low moan escaped her, and she began to rock back and forth.

Slowly—very slowly—she began to reassemble her blurred, disjointed memories, connecting the dots one to another. She had been part of the library ambush. But that had all gone to hell. She had fought the Senshi. But they had been far too strong for her. She had tried to escape. But...

...but what? She remembered running away through the back alleys, remembered collapsing to the ground when her strength failed her, but... what had happened then?

Painfully, she raised her head, taking a good look around herself for the first time. The reds and golds of the setting sun crisscrossed the sky—it was late evening now, not the early afternoon it had been when she'd passed out. And this was certainly no back alley.

She was in a small, vacant lot, nestled between a group of buildings in what looked like a small shopping district. There was a campfire—of all things—burning merrily in a firepit off to the side. It looked as though someone had been using it to cook noodles of some kind.

Next to the campfire was a large backpack, open, and with a variety of camping supplies lying around it. Closer to her was what looked like a small medical kit, also open. She glanced down at her injured arm, and sure enough, saw that a white gauze bandage had been wrapped carefully around her wound. "What the hell?" she muttered under her breath, unable to make sense out of any of it.

"Oh, you're awake!"

The unfamiliar voice from behind her caused Beneda to whirl around—or at least, to make the best approximation of whirling around she could manage in her injured state. The end result was something closer to stumbling around, and she ended up falling on her rear a little more than halfway through. But, lack of grace notwithstanding, she succeeded in getting a look at who it was that had spoken.

It was a human.

For a moment she simply stared at him, eyes blank, uncomprehending. A human. What was a human doing here? More to the point, what was he doing talking to her, as though it were the most natural thing in the world?

He was young, she suspected—although she had little idea of how to judge human ages—with black hair tied in a yellow-and-black bandanna. And try though she might, she could find no trace in his eyes of the vacant look that would suggest he had been enthralled by one of her fellow youma. No, he was here of his own free will.

It looked as though he had been in the process of setting up a small tent when her awakening had interrupted him. He abandoned that, however, and walked over to sit down on the ground next to her. "You were tossing and turning for a while," he continued. "I was beginning to worry..."

Beneda said nothing, his words barely registering. The silence between them began to grow strained, and quickly. At last the human cleared his throat. "My name is Hibiki Ryouga," he said, watching her with some amount of caution, but no apparent fear. "Who are you?"

The youma continued to stare at the human for a moment, before finally snapping out of it. "What's going on here?" she demanded. "Where am I? What happened to me? How did I—?"

He cut her off, lifting his hands placatingly. "It's all right! Don't be afraid. I found you lying on the ground in an alley, and I carried you here so I could look after your wound better. That's all."

His claim brought her up short. "You?" she asked, incredulous. "_You_ brought me here? _You_ treated my wound?"

The human nodded, twice.

Beneda's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why?"

The question caught him off-guard. "Why?" he repeated back, surprised. "Well, you were just lying there... It was obvious that you needed help."

The youma regarded him skeptically. How gullible did he think she was? There had to be more to it than that—something he wasn't telling her—but she couldn't work out what it could be. What did he gain from helping her?

Still, she knew better than to press the issue. Better to let him think that she bought his story—at least for now.

Suddenly tired, she slumped a bit, resting her head in her hands as a wave of dizziness swept over her. It was all too much to take in. Why had everything gone wrong like this? And what was she supposed to do now?

Her self-pity was interrupted as the human spoke again. "If... you don't mind my asking," he said. "What happened to you back there? Why was that rose sticking in your arm? And..." He hesitated for a moment, before finally pressing forward. "What... are you?"

Beneda raised her head wearily, looking him in the eyes once again. "I'm a youma," she said, her voice flat. It was the easiest of his three questions to answer, and the one that would be the most meaningless to him. Answering the other two—now that would be trickier.

Fortunately, her answer seemed to have diverted him. "A youma..." he murmured thoughtfully. "I've never met one of you before."

"We try to keep a low profile," was Beneda's terse reply. She was only half paying attention to the conversation, the rest of her thoughts occupied with trying furiously to think up some kind of plan.

If only she had been a little stronger! Then it would have been an entirely different matter. She was certain she could have drained this puny human dry of energy, hidden until she had the cover of darkness, and then made her way back to the Dark Kingdom portal without any trouble. But as it was she could barely even stand, let alone do any of that.

And the Senshi were still out there...

No, distasteful though it was, she knew that in her weakened state she would need help to survive. And that meant she had to be careful what she told her strange benefactor. She doubted he would react very well if he knew that she was working toward the enslavement of his entire species.

The human in question was talking again. "A low profile?" he asked, curious. "Why do you do that?"

Beneda resisted the urge to grind her teeth in frustration. Why couldn't he just stay quiet and let her think? "It's for... protection," she replied, improvising as she went. "To keep ourselves safe. That's all."

The human was frowning now. "Safe from what?"

"From you humans, of course," the youma answered. "We... look like monsters to you, right? If we didn't stay out of sight, you'd probably try to kill us."

For some reason, what she said seemed to disturb him. "Is that what happened in the alley?" he asked, an odd sense of urgency in his voice.

_Damn._ Right back to the very subject she didn't want to talk about. But there was nothing for it. "Uh, yes. Yes, that's exactly what happened. I was attacked by some crazed human vigilantes, and they left me for dead there."

The frown the human was wearing deepened to a scowl. "I see," was all he said, and with that he rose to his feet.

Beneda started to panic, thinking she had said something wrong. But all the human did was slowly sweep his gaze across the tops of the surrounding buildings. Then, in a loud voice, he spoke. "Come out! I've known you were spying on us since you started half an hour ago."

For a moment there was no response, but then a figure rose into view on one of the rooftops. It was that of a woman, her dark hair short-cropped, her body clad in a slinky, low-cut red dress that showed off a very well-endowed figure.

"My, my, my..." she said lazily, looking down at them. "What a perceptive little human you are."

"Crusath..." Beneda muttered under her breath. Even as she spoke, the newcomer walked to the side of the building and, stepping off the edge, dropped the three stories to the ground.

"I must admit," she said, as she got up from the crouch she had landed in, "I_was_ quite curious as to what this human had in mind for you. But it seems now I'll never get the chance to find out. Such a pity." With that, she began to walk toward the pair.

The human glanced at Beneda, then back to the newcomer, his posture wary. "Is she one of the ones that attacked you?"

Crusath laughed at that. "Me? Oh, hardly! I'm merely here to convey our master's displeasure to her for failing in her mission." She raised her hand, flexing her fingers menacingly. "His very _intense_ displeasure."

The words were a dagger of ice plunged into Beneda's chest, as she saw her last hope crumbling away before her eyes. "Wait!" the youma begged, desperation in her voice. "You've got to believe me, Crusath, it wasn't my fault! I was following the plan, but then one of the Senshi's allies attacked me from behind! There was nothing I could have done!"

The other youma clucked her tongue in mock remorse, even as she closed in on her helpless comrade. "Such an unfortunate story..." she sighed. "It really does pain me to do this, you know."

"No!" Beneda pleaded. "Listen, I'll... I'll make it up somehow! I'll complete the mission, I swear! I just need another chance!" How she could possibly accomplish such a feat she had no idea; she would have promised to give Crusath all the stars in a bucket if she had thought it had the slightest chance of saving her life.

But Crusath only snorted. "Another chance? For a third-rate youma like you? Don't be absurd. Just give up—and die without squirming too much."

With a strength born of fear Beneda fought her way unsteadily to her feet—but was immediately hit by a wave of dizziness that forced her back down to her knees. Desperate, she tried to crawl backward, using her legs and her one good arm in an awkward scuttling motion. But it was hopeless. There was no way she could outpace her executioner, and they both knew it.

And then, with a single stride, the human stepped between them.

Crusath stopped short, halting her advance for a moment as she took in this new development. The human met her gaze evenly, and then spoke. "Stay back!" he warned her sharply. "I don't know what's going on here... but I won't let you hurt her."

The youma in the red dress raised her eyebrows at that. "My, my, _my_..." she murmured, licking her lips, while fixing him with a sultry gaze. "Aren't _we_ forceful?"

The human blushed a deep crimson, but stood his ground. "If I h-h-have to be."

"Of course..." Crusath purred. As she spoke, she began to slink closer to the human, until they were only inches apart. Then she lifted a single finger and began to trace it lightly across the human's chest, drawing a small shiver from him. "You know..." she breathed. "I _like_ forceful men..."

The human tried to respond to that, but all he managed was an incoherent stutter. Crusath giggled, enjoying his discomfiture. "And do you want to know a secret?" she asked him, her voice low. Without waiting for an answer, she leaned in even closer, until her lips were practically brushing against his ear. She whispered her next words, barely audible.

"I can be forceful too."

Without warning, her hand blurred into motion, slamming it into the human's stomach. The blow bent him over double, sending him hurtling back through the air in a blur of velocity.

His trajectory flung him into the corner of one of the nearby buildings with devastating force. His body crashed straight through the thick wall, collapsing it and burying him in a shower of brick and mortar.

Crusath laughed hysterically at the sight, even as the arm she had struck him with began to bulge and warp. Her skin grew red and hard, as her arm expanded to the thickness of a tree trunk.

The change swept from there through the rest of her. She tore free of her dress as her body grew, almost doubling in size. She laughed again, the sound now harsh and deep.

She towered over her prey now, a hulking, troll-like monstrosity, complete with huge tusks and horns, and a long, coiling tail. Beneda could only sit there, frozen in terror, as Crusath began to advance on her again.

"Not bad," said a familiar voice.

As one, both youma turned their heads over to the pile of debris that the voice had come from. Beneda's jaw was hanging open in shock. That... That had sounded like... But that was impossible!

But the next moment the rubble shifted, and a hand reached out of it. Then as they watched, their eyes wide with incredulity, the human pulled himself out of the wreckage and dusted himself off, looking no worse for the wear.

He glanced up at the now-transformed youma. "You're pretty strong," he said. "That actually hurt."

* * *

Ryouga cracked his neck back and forth, working the kinks out of it, while at the same time sizing up his opponent. She looked a great deal more dangerous now, but he found this new form far preferable to her more feminine one. Especially since he'd probably have to beat her up before this was all over.

For her part, Crusath was incredulous. "You... How...?" she spluttered, staggering back a few steps. "What _are_ you?"

He ignored her question, glancing instead over at the injured youma he was helping. Thankfully, it didn't look like she had come to any harm in his brief absence.

As he examined her, he caught her eyes for a moment. He could see fear in them, fear mixed with bewilderment. But there was also something else in her eyes, as she looked at him: just a tiny flicker of hope.

Ryouga clenched his fists, determination filling him. He wasn't going to betray that hope. There was no way he was going to let this freak hurt her.

No way in hell.

He turned back to Crusath, glaring at her. "Do you enjoy attacking those who can't fight back?" he asked, his voice dangerous. "Well prepare yourself. This time, you aren't fighting someone weaker than you."

The brutish youma's eyes flashed angrily at that, some of her confidence returning as she recovered from her surprise. "Don't get cocky, human," she snarled. "Just because you can take a hit doesn't mean you can match one of us."

Ryouga said nothing in reply to that—only cracked his knuckles.

The two of them began to circle each other slowly. The youma was cautious, obviously wary of his unknown abilities. Ryouga, on the other hand, regarded her levelly, without showing any emotion.

Then, with a roar, the red-skinned youma gathered herself and charged. The ground shook under her footfalls as she barreled toward her enemy. She raised her massive arm, swinging it downward in a punch clearly intended to crush him like a bug.

But the instant before it landed, Ryouga made a small hop backward. The strike slammed harmlessly into the ground, sending shockwaves vibrating through it. Crusath immediately repeated the attack with her other hand, but her foe deftly sidestepped that one, then ducked as her third punch ripped through the air where his head had been.

And that was the opening he had been waiting for. He dashed in beneath her over-extended strike, and with a loud battle-cry, buried his fist deep into her stomach.

Crusath doubled over, gasping as the air was driven forcefully from her lungs. Ryouga pressed his advantage, hammering another quick series of punches into her midsection, then finishing with an uppercut that caught her under the chin, snapping her head back.

His opponent reeled away, trying to put some distance between them, but he had no intention of allowing her to do so. He kept up the offensive: a flurry of punches, a kick, another punch—battering her with blow after blow, driving her ever backward. Seeing an opening, he leapt in the air, poised to deliver a devastating jump kick directly to her face—

—and then, snaking around from behind, her tail coiled around him in midflight.

His eyes widened. "Oh craaa_aaaaaa..._" His voice trailed off into a yell as Crusath's tail whipped him violently around in a wide arc and hurled him at yet another building. The youma herself followed in close pursuit.

Ryouga hit the wall spread-eagled this time, not breaking all the way through it, but imbedding himself deeply all the same. He blinked groggily, the world whirling in circles around him as he tried to clear his head from the dizziness brought on by the sudden spin.

His vision stabilized quickly—just in time to see the charging Crusath's lowered shoulder an inch from his face.

The next instant, he was body-slammed by several tons of enraged youma. The impact smashed him straight through the wall and into the small convenience store that lay beyond it. Nor did Crusath stop there. She continued her charge without pausing, plowing the human through row after row of shelves, and finally through the storefront window and out to the street.

At last Ryouga managed to kick off from his foe's body, launching himself away from her. He hit the ground hard, landing in an uncontrolled, end-over-end roll. Finally stopping, he tried to struggle back to his feet, but Crusath was on him too quickly. She slammed him back down to the ground, holding him there with a hand on his chest. Then she raised her other fist high, and brought it down as hard as she could onto his face.

Pain exploded through Ryouga, and his vision went black for an instant. He could feel the cement around his head crack from the impact. He tried to collect his wits, only to have his enemy repeat the punch again. And again. And again.

The sound of the impacts formed a ghastly rhythm as it echoed through the air. Each blow drove a spike of agony through Ryouga's head. But he hung grimly on to consciousness—focusing his feelings of helplessness into a much more familiar emotion.

Rage.

When she went to strike him for the sixth time, his hand shot up and caught her punch in mid-swing.

The youma's eyes bulged. Ryouga's tiny palm was almost lost against her massive fist, his arm trembling, and yet managing to hold back her full strength. He glared up at her, blinking blood out of his eyes. Even as he did so, he could feel the glowing flames of his battle aura beginning to build around him.

"Wh- what the—?" Crusath stammered. But that was as far as she got. With a sudden shove Ryouga extended his arm, thrusting her fist away completely. She wobbled, off-balance—and that was all he needed to twist out of her grasp and roll to his feet.

His battle aura was now blazing wildly around him, giving off wave upon wave of stifling heat. He bared his fanged teeth at her, a low growl building in the back of his throat.

Hibiki Ryouga was _seriously_ pissed off.

He threw himself at her before she could recover from her surprise, his fists blurring in a storm of punches. Crusath cried out in pain as he tore into her. He gave no opportunity for a counterattack, keeping up his ferocious offensive, forcing her to give ground.

She tried to block his attacks, but he didn't even try to get around her guard—he simply battered on her arms in a frenzy until they dropped. He slammed a kick into her leg, dropping her to her knees. That brought her horns into reach, and he grabbed one of them, using it to yank her head toward him as he drove his other fist into her gut.

He repeated that attack twice more, then grabbed her other horn with his free hand. And, with a roar, he pulled her into a head butt.

Their heads collided with a mighty crash. Crusath wobbled, her eyes crossing. Then, without fanfare, she flopped over onto her back.

Ryouga stood over her, breathing hard, his aura slowly flickering down. He raised his hand to shakily wipe some of the blood off his face, then finally spoke. "Now get out of here," he told her. "I don't ever want to see your face again. Either of them."

Slowly, painfully, the youma rolled herself over onto her hands and knees. She cast one glance back at him, and appeared to weigh her chances for a moment. Then, pulling herself to her feet, she proceeded to stumble away as fast as she could.

* * *

Beneda had lost sight of the combatants when they had gone through the building wall. She could tell nothing of what was happening—nothing except what her imagination could pull from the titanic crashes coming from the other side.

She considered running, but knew it would be futile. She could barely stand in her current condition, let alone get far enough away to escape. One way or another, her fate would be decided by who won the battle.

And then the sounds of fighting came to a stop. Beneda sucked in an fearful breath, holding it. For what seemed like an eternity, there was nothing.

Then she heard the sound of footsteps crunching their way across the debris-strewn floor of the building. A moment later, the human walked out of the hole in the wall—battered, bleeding and a little unsteady, but still very much alive.

Beneda let out her breath in a huge shudder of relief. "I don't believe it," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "I just... don't believe it."

The human made his way back over to her, before plopping down, exhausted. "Whew..." he gasped. "She was a nasty one."

The youma only regarded him with amazement. "How did you _do_ that?" she asked him. "It shouldn't be possible for a normal human to kill one of us—let alone in hand to hand combat! Where did you get that kind of power?"

He scratched the back of his head, self-consciously. "It's only training, nothing special. I've been fighting ever since I can remember." He paused. "And I didn't kill her, actually—just beat her up and told her to leave us be."

Beneda blinked, her train of thought screeching to a very abrupt halt. "Wait, _what?_" she demanded. "You mean you didn't finish her off? Why the hell _not?_"

He shrugged. "I didn't need to," he said, as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

For a moment, Beneda simply stared at him, her mouth hanging open. _What kind of a reason is that?_ she thought, incredulously. But she bit her tongue and kept her opinion to herself. All she said aloud was: "Well. That means there'll probably be a _whole_ lot more of her friends coming here soon, as soon as she tells them where I am."

The human's face creased into a deep frown. "Damn. I... suppose we'd better get out of here quick, then." With that he jumped back to his feet, and began to hurriedly take down his half-set-up tent.

Beneda watched him pack for a moment, then tiredly rubbed the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Her brief euphoria at cheating death had been replaced by a much more realistic appraisal of what her chances still were. If Jadeite had decided to execute her as a failure, then this small victory was meaningless. Even if she ran, sooner or later—probably sooner—she would be tracked down, and enough force would be brought to bear on her to stomp out _any_ resistance.

And that was to say nothing of what would happen when Queen Metallia awoke and the Dark Kingdom took full hold of this world...

The youma shuddered. _What am I going to do?_ she wondered, hopelessly. _How can I convince Jadeite to take me back?_

She had to appease him, had to make up for her failure somehow. But she was at a complete loss for how to do it. There was just nothing comparable to the opportunity she had blown. The Sailor Senshi were the only real thorn in Jadeite's side, and as she had discovered, they were far too powerful for her to defeat.

And that was when inspiration struck, like a bolt of lightning. Her head shot up, looking first at the human, then back over to the devastation his fight had wreaked, then back at the human.

The Senshi were far too powerful for _her_ to defeat...

It was a risky plan. An _insanely_ risky plan. It was simple in principle, but audacious in execution. It would require immense quantities of cunning, manipulation and luck to pull off without it blowing up in her face.

And it was, perhaps, her last slim chance at getting out of this alive...

With an effort, she rose to her feet and hobbled her way over toward the human, picking up the medical kit as she did so. The details of her plot would require careful thought and planning—but she could start laying the groundwork now.

She opened her mouth to call out to him—then froze for a moment, cursing inside. What_ had_ the human called himself? "Hey, uh... Ryoma?"

The human glanced up, and chuckled. "Ryouga," he corrected.

"Right. Ryouga. Of course." It felt... strange, thinking of a human by a name. You didn't name food, after all. But she brushed the incongruity aside, and pressed on. "You're bleeding," she said. "Here. Let me put a bandage on it."

The human—Ryouga—looked surprised. "You don't need to do that!" he protested. "Believe me, I've had much worse than this. You should rest and save your strength."

Beneda ignored him, hobbling closer. She rummaged through the unfamiliar kit, at last settling on a roll of white material that looked like what he had used on her. She unrolled some of it, and then, brushing back Ryouga's hair, she began to carefully wrap it around the larger cuts.

He allowed her to complete her task, helping a little bit at the end to secure the bandage. Then he smiled. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it," she replied. "Just think of it as my thanks for saving me from Crusath... and from those fanatical youma hunters."

"All right," Ryouga nodded, then bent down to continue his hurried packing. Beneda, likewise, turned to walk back to where she had been sitting, yearning to rest herself. In her weakened state, even the small act of bandaging the human had taxed her much more heavily than she had let on.

"Say..." came Ryouga's voice from behind her. She glanced back over her shoulder at him, as he continued. "What's your name? I don't think you ever mentioned it."

The youma started, taken a little aback. Somehow, it hadn't quite occurred to her that the giving of names might be expected to go in both ways. "Beneda," she answered, after only a brief pause.

"Beneda..." he repeated, nodding once. "I'm glad to have met you, Beneda."

Then, remembering the urgency of the situation, he went back to packing as fast as he could.

* * *

Hours later, in an entirely different dimension from the one Beneda currently occupied, Jadeite watched as a battered Crusath knelt, cowering, before him.

The blonde-haired General regarded her without speaking, his arms crossed. Second after second ticked by, the silence stretching on until it became almost unbearable. Finally, Jadeite spoke.

"One youma," he said, dwelling on each word. "You were sent to eliminate one _wounded_ youma."

Crusath flinched, and raised her head. "Sir, it's not like that!" she protested. "There was a human—"

"A _human?_" asked Jadeite, his eyes flashing angrily. "One of the _humans_ did this to you?"

"No!" she said desperately. "I mean... Sir, he _looked_ like a human, but he had... powers! I hit him, crushed him, smashed him through concrete, but nothing stopped him! And then—after that—he started using some kind of magic that I've never even seen before! He was glowing, with fire all around him, and he was even stronger than before and... and..." her voice trailed off into nothing, and she lapsed back into fearful groveling.

In spite of his anger, Jadeite frowned, considering her words for a moment. "Go on," he said reluctantly, after a great deal of thought.

Crusath looked up, emboldened slightly by her master's words. "He was protecting Beneda," she said. "She was unconscious when I found them, but he was looking after her. I watched them from hiding—but he knew I was there the whole time, even though I never showed myself! Then, when I went to kill Beneda, he attacked me."

"What possible use could such a powerful mage have for such a weak youma?" Jadeite asked, suspiciously.

The youma shook her head. "I don't know, sir. But it's the truth, I swear it. I... I could have stayed and fought to the end. And I would have! But... I knew that you needed to be warned about this terrible new threat. So I managed to escape, to get back and tell you." She gave him a pleading, hopeful look.

Jadeite looked down at her for a long time, anger flickering across his features. Finally, he let out a short hiss of breath. "Very well," he said grudgingly. "Report to Alimora for your full debriefing. I will expect a thorough report of every last detail we know about this new interloper."

"Yes sir!" Crusath said, almost collapsing with relief. She proceeded to back away, bowing low and repeatedly.

Jadeite watched her go, then swore under his breath. As if it wasn't enough to have the Sailor Senshi plaguing him! Now there was another factor in the mix—and one that was stealing his youma, no less. He just hoped that he could resolve this quickly—Queen Beryl was already becoming skeptical of his performance as it was. Something like this couldn't have come at a worse time.

So caught up was he in his worries, that he almost didn't notice a cold, clammy, death-like sensation infecting the air around him. But as soon as he detected it, his eyes narrowed. "I suppose I should have known that _you'd_ hear of this before the official report," he growled.

A low, gravelly chuckle came from the shadows behind him. "Such temper!" the voice said. "The mighty general is in dire straits, it seems."

"Know your place, youma," Jadite replied levelly, without turning around to face the speaker. "Your favor with Queen Beryl is not great enough that you can afford to take that tone with me."

"Apologies, _sir_," the voice replied. "But I am merely attending to 'my place.' This is no longer a matter of army discipline. If Beneda is on the run, then she is a deserter. If she has sided with human sorcerers, then she is a defector. And both those situations fall under _my_ authority."

Jadeite shrugged. "Do as you wish," he said. "If you feel it is worth the Black Section's effort to hunt down one weak youma and her human guardian, then I will not object to you sparing me the annoyance."

"You are too kind, _sir_..." grated the voice, a note of warped glee entering it. "It has been far too long since a youma has been foolish enough to try and escape Beryl's service. My Inquisitors are beginning to grow restless—and ripping apart a traitor will be just what they need to satisfy themselves..."


	3. Night Hunt

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Three: Night Hunt

The tunnel was narrow and dimly lit, a twisting, claustrophobic passage that led deep into the bowels of the earth beneath Queen Beryl's palace. Grime coated the walls, and the very air reeked of decay.

Two youma walked down the rocky hallway, keeping perfect pace with each other. Any distinguishing features they might have had were hidden by the uniforms they wore. Black, flowing robes shrouded their bodies, while their faces were covered by wrought-iron masks, forged in the likenesses of leering demonic faces. The only signs of life were their eyes, just barely visible through narrow slits in the metal—one pair green, the other a pale blue.

As they followed the passage deeper and deeper, they began to hear sounds drifting up from below. Bestial howls, echoing eerily in the confined space, growing louder the farther the two of them went.

Eventually the tunnel came to an end, the way blocked by a large steel door. Without hesitation, one of the figures walked up to it, and began to slide open the deadbolts that held the door shut. After all four of them had been unlocked, the figure gave the handle a long pull.

With a harsh screech of metal against metal, the door swung ponderously open. As it did so, the sound of the howling intensified, reaching a feverish pitch. Undeterred, the two figures walked through, into the chamber that lay beyond.

It was filled with rows and rows of cages, the front of each covered by a metal lattice so thick it was difficult to make out details through it. What _could_ be seen was violent, frenzied motion, the cage doors shaking as they were hit again and again by what was inside them. Occasionally, long serrated claws jabbed through the openings in mesh, clawing tirelessly for a purchase.

The two figures looked back and forth across the chamber, then one of them spoke, revealing herself as female. "Keeper!" she snarled, having to raise her voice to be heard above the cacophony. "Get out here!"

For a moment there was no reply. Then, from around the corner of one of the cage rows, a youma appeared.

What she had once looked like would have been difficult to tell, so severely had she been deformed. Her skin was a pallid grey, crisscrossed everywhere by scars far too numerous to count. One such scar had fused her left eye shut. She walked with a limp—her right leg was warped from yet another old injury—but her movements showed surprising speed regardless.

Her stature was hunched, making her noticeably shorter than the other two figures. She peered up at them for a moment through her thinning, unkempt strands of hair. Then she bowed low to the ground.

"My masters, this is indeed an honor," she said from her position of abasement, her voice devoid of any sincerity. "What brings two of the Black Section's Inquisitors to my humble domain?"

"The only thing that ever brings us to this festering pit," snapped one of the Inquisitors. "There's a youma we want found. The orders just came down from the Darkmistress herself. She wants your animals to be ready."

The Keeper raised her head a little. "Of course, masters..." she said, a note of pride entering her voice. "My pets are _always_ ready."

Even as she spoke the words, the bloodthirsty howls of the creatures in the cages rose in volume—as though they understood what was to come.

* * *

Beneda felt a mild sensation of vertigo as Ryouga leaped from the rooftop, launching the two of them across the road below toward the building on the opposite side. The two of them glided through the cold night air, flaunting the pull of gravity for a few dizzying seconds, before landing at their destination with a small thud. Nor did Ryouga let his momentum falter, transitioning smoothly into a run as soon as his feet hit, racing toward the next ledge.

It was hardly the most dignified mode of travel—held cradled in a human's arms. But she knew it was necessary. They needed to cover ground quickly, and she was still too weak to keep up that kind of pace on her own. And so she had swallowed her pride, and allowed Ryouga to carry her.

She had heard whispered rumors of what they sent after youma who tried to run. She had no desire to learn the truth of them herself.

Besides, there were definite benefits to this arrangement. Surreptitiously, she shifted her hand so that her palm lay against the human's chest. And then—very carefully—she pulled some of his life energy into herself.

Ryouga ran on, and Beneda fought the urge to shake her head in amazement. At first, her plan had only been to drain a tiny bit from him. She didn't want to weaken her protector, after all—nor did she particularly want him to guess what her kind fed on. She had only intended it as a stopgap measure, to keep herself alive until she found someone else who wasn't so integral to her plans. And so she had begun to steal small amounts of his energy, ready to stop the moment the loss seemed to affect him.

Now, hours later, she was beginning to realize the sheer, boggling amount of life energy that this human actually possessed. She had gone from absolutely starving to practically sated—something that would have put a normal human into a coma for a week. Ryouga didn't seem to have noticed.

"...but not stealthy enough. I blocked it with my umbrella." Dragging herself out of her thoughts, she caught the last part of Ryouga's statement. "That was when I saw him for the first time: a figure in a cloak, standing on a fence."

_Huh. By the sound of it he's moved onto a new story..._ Beneda mused. She had discovered early on that one way of deflecting tricky questions about herself was to get him talking about his own life. She had been employing that tactic judiciously ever since.

It was nothing if not effective. Her first, almost accidental attempt had sparked a rant that lasted well over half an hour, all about the indignities that someone named "Ranma" had heaped on him. Indeed, once he got going, the human seemed almost pathetically eager to have someone who would listen to his ramblings.

From there, it had only taken a few subtle nudges to get him started on his various duels with this Ranma. One of the stranger ones had been the time when an ink drawing had actually given him the ability to beat his adversary—and the desperate measures he had employed to get rid of it. Beneda, for her part, couldn't fathom how anyone could actually give up that kind of power, no matter _how_ stupid the doodle had looked.

And now this. Still about fighting, but with a different enemy now. "I didn't know who he was, or why he had attacked me," Ryouga explained. "But I wasn't about to back down. I jumped up on the fence as well, and for a few moments we sized each other up."

"I could tell just from his stance that he was a formidable opponent. He wouldn't have been easy to beat, even at my best. And of course, as luck would have it, that was when it started to rain."

Beneda frowned, puzzled. "Rain? What does rain have to do with anything?"

"Um... Uh..." Ryouga's speech became suddenly flustered, and Beneda could tell he regretted letting that last statement slip. "Nothing! That is... I mean... I just... don't... fight very well in the rain, that's all. It... distracts me."

"I see..." Beneda drawled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Truly, _that_ had been a masterful piece of deception. So, the human had a secret, one that he was clearly embarrassed about. Interesting.

"Besides," Ryouga said hurriedly, "it wasn't just that. It was also then that he revealed his true power. He was more than just a normal man; he had the ability to transform into a terrible mixture of an ox, eel, crane and yeti..."

And so he continued to spin his tale of duels, kidnappings, rescue attempts and human undergarments. Occasionally Beneda would interject with a question or two—particularly regarding that last element. But for the most part she kept silent as Ryouga told the story.

"...just let him fly away with her! Can you imagine that? He let his own fiancée get kidnapped right in front of his eyes!"

"...managed to drag him out of the water by his pigtail. Uh, not that I actually _cared_ what happened to the bastard, of course..."

"...thought they were up to something at first. But then they explained their motives—and it turned out they had come out of simple friendship! Naturally, I felt ashamed for being so suspicious..."

"...and so, between Mousse and I, we found our way back to the battlefield without a problem! Ranma had already started to fight him by then, but..."

She listened as Ryouga gave an animated description of the wild fight that had broken out after Ranma had jumped off the cliff after Akane. It ended as he grudgingly told how Ranma had finally taken the foe down—with the mumbled protest that "of course, _I_ helped soften him up, not that the ingrate mentioned it afterward..."

He drifted off into silence after that. Beneda replied in kind, shaking her head in wonderment. She would never have guessed that the human world was so... strange.

She tried to relax, watching her surroundings fly by on either side of her as Ryouga continued to run. One particular group of buildings caught her eye in passing, giving her a brief feeling of deja vu.

_Well, I guess at least one thing about the humans is monotonous,_ she mused distractedly. _Their style of construction. In fact, if I didn't know better, I would have said that we passed that exact same group of buildings five times in the last hour..._

It was a little scary, in fact—thinking of how easily she could have gotten lost here if she hadn't found Ryouga to act as her guide.

But she decided not to dwell on such depressing thoughts. Instead, she glanced back up to look at her benefactor. "So what happened after that?" she inquired.

Ryouga looked down, startled out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. "Huh? What?"

"After the four of you beat that monster," Beneda repeated patiently. "What happened after that?"

"Oh!" Ryouga said, at last catching on to what she was asking. "Well, that's really a story in itself. You see, there was a reason why he hated Happousai so much..."

* * *

At the same moment, in a different part of Tokyo, the dark of night was broken by even darker shadows, moving silently from rooftop to rooftop.

The Keeper alighted on the corner of one of the roofs, using her perch to peer out across the cityscape in front of her. Her eyes furrowed in displeasure as she did so, and she spat to the side.

Behind her, a pair of soft impacts announced that the two Inquisitors had caught up. "Well?" demanded one of them, impatience in her voice. "Have they found them yet?"

The Keeper bared her teeth angrily, but schooled her face into a more respectful expression before turning to face them. "No," she replied, shortly.

"No?" echoed the Inquisitor, scorn in her voice. "Are these fugitives really so skilled at hiding their trail that they can confuse your vaunted beasts?"

The Keeper's eye twitched at the insult. "Skilled?" she shot back. "If they were just 'skilled' it would be nothing. This trail is... _diabolical_. They're taking the rooftops, jumping, doubling back on themselves, crisscrossing countless times in every conceivable direction... In all my years, I've never seen anyone take such a perverse delight in confusing their path."

The Inquisitor snorted. "So your creatures are useless here."

"I didn't say that!" the Keeper snapped. "My pets can track anything. _Anything._ This will simply take... a little more time."

Beneath the mask, the blue eyes of the Inquisitor narrowed. "You had better be right about that," she warned.

"I am," replied the Keeper, without hesitation. "We will find them. And when we do, we will make them regret each and every one of their little tricks." She looked out across the city, once more, menace boiling in her gaze.

The other Inquisitor, who had until now been silent, spoke up sharply. "This is no mere youma hunt, Keeper— remember that! We need them alive, especially the human. If the Darkmistress is unable to interrogate him, it is _her_ you will have to answer to."

The Keeper let out a small, irritated hiss—but there was a strong undercurrent of fear there as well. She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. Then she opened them again, and glanced over at the Inquisitors. "There. I reminded them," she said, grudgingly. "The fugitives won't be _killed_. Even so... they won't need their _legs_ to answer questions, now will they?"

* * *

It was about an hour later that Ryouga and Beneda stopped to sleep.

Judging by their impressive rate of speed, Beneda had at last decided that they had put enough distance between themselves and the place they had fought Crusath that they could afford a brief rest. Then, not long after that, they had stumbled across a small, secluded park in a residential area of the city—an ideal place to hole up in for what remained of the night. They had decided not to waste the opportunity.

Beneda watched, interestedly, as Ryouga set up his camp. He hadn't pitched his tent this time—no doubt he wanted to be able to leave quickly if the need arose. But he had taken out a sleeping bag from his backpack and spread it out on the ground. Now he was gathering wood, picking up smaller sticks off the ground, as well as breaking a couple larger branches off nearby trees.

Using his hands, he dug up a small section of the ground, then encircled the impromptu firepit with a handful of rocks that had been lying about. Once he had finished, he arranged the wood inside the pit, and soon had a merry little fire burning.

Then he rummaged around in his pack once more, and pulled out a carton of the same kind of noodles that Beneda had seen at his first campsite. "I'm sorry I can't offer you anything better," he said apologetically, even as he opened the carton and got ready to cook its contents. "My supplies are a little low right now. This is all I have."

"It's fine," Beneda replied mechanically. Her attention was focused on the food itself, watching with morbid fascination as Ryouga prepared it. Of course, she had known intellectually how humans fed, but actually being confronted by it was something else entirely. They actually took dead plants and animals, and _ingested_ the corpses. She shuddered. It was enough to make her skin crawl.

All too soon, the meal was ready. Ryouga turned toward her, offering her the paper cup. "Here you are," he said. "This should help you keep your strength up."

Beneda kept a rigid smile fixed on her face, even as she reached out and took the food with her uninjured arm. She set it down on the ground, then picked up the two wooden sticks that Ryouga had provided as utensils and began to poke at the noodles tentatively.

_Ugh, disgusting..._ she thought glumly. _But I guess I don't have much of a choice. Who knows how he'd react if he figured out what I actually feed on?_

Gritting her teeth, she clumsily picked up some of the noodles between the sticks, and stuck them into her mouth. She barely managed to suppress her gag reflex, and began to mechanically chew on the food, as Ryouga watched. "It's good!" she croaked out at last, around the mouthful.

Inside, her thoughts were racing. _Damn, there's no way I can do this! Have to think of another plan..._

Grasping at straws, she suddenly widened her eyes and pointed behind Ryogua. "Wait! What's that?" she gasped.

Immediately the human shot to his feet and whirled, his movement so fast she could barely follow it. His hands snapped up into a fighting stance, his eyes searching the shadows for any sign of movement.

The second his eyes were off her, Beneda quietly retched the food out of her mouth into her hand, and hurled it away into the underbrush. For good measure, she grabbed another couple handfuls out of the carton, and disposed of them in the same way.

She looked back over to Ryogua, who was still looking anxiously for who-knew-what. "I don't see anything," he said at last, his stance still wary. "Did you catch where it went?"

Beneda shrugged. "Oh... I guess it was just my imagination..." she said. "I thought I saw one of the youma from the Dark Kingdom for a minute there. Probably just my nerves."

Ryouga continued to search the shadows for a few more seconds, before slowly sitting back down. "That's all right," he said. "It's understandable to feel jumpy, under the circumstances."

For a few moments, they sat there in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire. At length, Ryouga glanced up. "Speaking of those Dark Kingdom youma..." he began, his voice thoughtful. "It sounded as though they wanted you to... do something for them? Crusath said something about you failing a mission?"

Beneda resisted the urge to curse. She had been very much hoping that Ryouga had forgotten _that_ particular interchange. But apparently she wasn't so lucky. She would have to give him an answer—and hope she could lie well enough to keep him from suspecting anything.

"Yes... That's right..." she replied slowly, trying to order her thoughts, continuing to poke at her food as she did so. "They did want me to do something for them. I was part of a trap. A trap that we set for the Sailor Senshi."

The human frowned. "Sailor Senshi. Those are the youma hunters?"

"Right," Beneda confirmed, nodding. "They spend their time tracking us down and killing us. We don't know why. Maybe they think we're dangerous somehow... or maybe they just enjoy doing it." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryouga's brow furrow angrily at the words, and she had to fight to keep a smirk off her face. That had been a particularly well-chosen barb, she guessed.

"Anyway," she continued, "for once, we had figured out where they were going to attack ahead of time. Our leaders decided to strike back at them, and I was ordered to be part of the ambush."

"At first, it all went according to plan. But at the last minute, some surprise reinforcements for the Senshi showed up, and everything started to fall apart. The situation kept going from bad to worse—until at last my superiors ordered me to do something to turn things around. They wanted me to take a human child hostage."

"But I..." She paused for dramatic effect. "I just... couldn't do it! Endangering a poor, innocent human like that, who hadn't ever done anything to me! But it ruined our ambush, and now they want to kill me for it."

Internally, she winced. Even in her own ears, that delivery had sounded overdone and fake. _Stupid! Stupid!_ she berated herself. _There's no way anyone would fall for that!_

Then she looked over at Ryouga's face—and saw distress and sympathy fairly radiating from his eyes. _All right..._ she thought, revising her opinion. _I guess there is someone._

"That's terrible!" Ryoga said. "Why do your people follow those kind of leaders? They don't sound much better than the Senshi themselves!"

"They... aren't, really," answered Beneda, improvising as she went. "But... you see... we don't have a choice. The Generals provide us with the strength and leadership that gives us a chance against our enemies. The Senshi would have been wiped us out long ago without their protection. And of course, few youma are willing to defy them anyway, knowing how powerful they are."

"But you did," replied Ryouga, admiration in his voice. "You're very brave, Beneda."

Beneda inclined her head modestly. _If only you knew, human..._ she thought as she did so. _Think what a different tune you'd be singing then._ And for a moment, she imagined what it would look like if he did know—the admiration and concern in Ryouga's eyes turning to fury, the fists that had defended her from Crusath turning against her.

She flinched a little, and locked that thought away. _Don't worry about that,_ she told herself. _Just play this right, and he'll never even know. Not until it's too late, at least. Not until I'm long gone._

Abruptly, she rose to her feet. This conversation had gone on for long enough, and she was determined to cut it short as soon as she could. In the end, the less the human found out, the easier her plans would be. "I'm sorry..." she told him. "I don't think I'll be able to eat any more. Right now, I really need to rest."

"Of course," Ryouga replied, hurriedly. "Please, use the sleeping bag. I'll stand watch."

With a nod, Beneda walked over and laid herself down on the sleeping bag. Already her vision was beginning to go a little blurry—her claims about needing sleep had not been entirely false. Indeed, they had been truer than even she had realized. In well under a minute, she was asleep.

Her last, foggy memory, just before she drifted off completely, was the sensation of a warm blanket being draped carefully over her.

* * *

Ryouga sat staring into the flames of the small campfire, the flickering orange light dancing across his face as he brooded over the events of the past day. Every so often he would glance over to where Beneda lay, still sound asleep, only to look back into the fire again.

_Well, Hibiki, you've really gone and done it now,_ he thought moodily. There were still all too many things that he didn't understand about this situation, but one thing, at least, was crystal clear. He had stumbled into something _big_.

He was no stranger to a fight, but this... this went far beyond his experience. Fanatical monster hunters, secret governments, all arrayed against this one lone youma. And now, he supposed, arrayed against him too. He sighed, scratching the back of his head as he wondered—not for the first time—just how far in over his head he actually was.

He took another glance over at the sleeping youma. _Of course, I can't just abandon her,_ he thought grimly. _But I have a feeling that this is going to be rough. And I don't even know what I can do, except run._

There was some consolation, though. They had at least gotten a good head start on any pursuit. Ryouga reckoned that they had probably made it to China by this point—which meant they could either swing north and try to reach France, or keep heading east toward India.

But that was something to discuss with Beneda after she awoke. For the present, there was nothing to do but stand guard. With a sigh, he tossed a few more sticks onto the fire, keeping it alive. He then leaned back a little, relaxing as he listened to the soft crackle of the flames, savoring the peace and calm of the crisp night air.

Then, slowly and gradually, another sound began to intrude on his hearing.

It was quiet, at first. Barely audible. But it grew as the source of the sound drew nearer, until Ryouga sat up with a start. He quickly rose to a crouch, eyes searching the surrounding shadows, ears straining to make out the noise. After a few seconds of listening, he was at last able to place it.

It was the sound of something _sniffing_.

And then he saw it. A dark shadow, barely visible, passing in and out of sight as it threaded its way through the trees. It was low to the ground, moving with an eerie grace, its outline matching no animal Ryouga had ever seen. Besides its sniffing, it made no noise whatsoever.

He could tell the thing was deadly—that much was obvious in every move it made. And in that moment, Ryouga was suddenly, painfully aware that he had left his umbrella strapped to his backpack, now just out of reach. Cursing himself for such a careless oversight, he began to shift himself slowly toward his weapon.

He had hardly even begun to move when the shadow whirled to face him with a feral growl. Ryouga could see its eyes: two pale, circular orbs, gleaming faintly in the darkness. A chill crept down his spine at the savage, animalistic bloodlust that they radiated.

Then the shadow began to close in again, coming straight toward him this time.

Ryouga let out a short hiss of breath. "Beneda!" he whispered harshly. "_Beneda!_"

The youma stirred, then her eyes blinked open. "Ryouga?" she mumbled, looking up at him. "Wha—?"

"_Shh!_" Ryouga whispered urgently. "Keep quiet. Don't make sudden moves."

Beneda frowned, then looked over and caught sight of the shadow, which had stopped just outside the small area of the light provided by the fire. Her eyes widened at the sight, and her whole body instantly went rigid.

"Don't panic," said Ryouga, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. "Just get ready. I'm going to attack it. But if it gets past me and tries to go for you, then you have to run." Beneda said nothing in reply, only gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Very slowly, Ryouga stretched out his hand for his umbrella. A low growl rumbled from deep in the thing's throat, and the lost boy paused for a moment, but then continued. Soon he had extended his arm as far as it would reach, the tips of his fingers almost brushing the umbrella's hilt. He leaned a little further, trying to get those last few inches...

Everything happened at once.

The creature exploded into motion, launching itself at Ryouga with a crazed howl. The sudden ferocity and incredible speed of the lunge left almost no time to react. Ryouga only barely managed to throw his left hand up to meet the charge. There was a flash of claws, and pain blossomed across Ryouga's chest.

Then his hand caught the creature in mid-flight, latching around its throat, and swinging it high in the air with a roar of his own. At the same time, he twisted his body so that he was able to snag his umbrella with his other hand, ripping it free of the straps that held it. Continuing his motion, he swung the beast fully over his head, then drove it down with all his might headfirst into the ground.

Even as the creature hit, his umbrella was already following the same path. Swinging high, then coming down on the thing's neck with a loud crunch.

* * *

The Keeper screamed, a cry of mingled pain and horror, and staggered back a few steps clutching at her head. The two Inquisitors whirled at the sound. "What is it?" demanded the blue-eyed one. "What happened?"

"I... They..." It took the Keeper a moment to collect herself. "One of my Hounds... she was following one of the scent-trails... She had found... something..." Her eyes widened as the realization of what had happened sunk in. "They killed her. They _killed her!_"

The Inquisitors glanced at each other, then back to the Keeper. "Where are they?" one asked urgently. "Have your Hounds converge on that location and delay them. We'll prepare to capture—"

"Capture?" asked the Keeper, her eyes wild. "_Capture?_ We will not capture them! We will hunt them down, and tear apart their filthy carcasses piece by piece!"

Behind their masks, the Inquisitors' eyes widened in incredulity. "What are you saying, you fool?" one of them asked. "We need them ali—"

"_They killed her!_" screamed the Keeper, and then without further words, spun away and began leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

Astonishment froze the Inquisitors in place for almost a second. Then, shaking it off, they began to chase after the Keeper.

* * *

Beneda scrambled to her feet, running over to where Ryouga stood. The human was breathing heavily, and holding one hand to his chest. He glanced up at her as she drew nearer. "What is this thing?" he asked, pointing with his umbrella at the body at his feet.

"I don't know..." Beneda admitted. "It's not a youma... but I've never seen anything like it before."

The creature, now fully visible in the light of the fire, was horrifically distorted. There was something vaguely canine in its appearance, but with mottled grey skin instead of fur. It was huge; even on all fours, it would have come up to Ryouga's chest. Muscle and sinew bulged and twisted around its body, and jagged teeth filled its mouth. Its claws were long, and wickedly serrated.

"I... did hear a rumor once," she continued. "That Queen Beryl had ordered experiments on some of the animals that live in the Dark Kingdom. But I never realized..."

Her voice trailed off, as she noticed a red stain on the creature's left foreclaw. She looked back up at Ryouga, and saw that underneath the hand on his chest, a similar stain was forming. "You're hurt," she said.

Ryouga shrugged, waving his umbrella dismissively. "It's nothing," he said. "Just a scratch. The important thing right now is—"

His words were cut off by a bone-chilling howl that echoed through the air. Beneda whirled to her left, toward the direction of the noise, her heart hammering in her chest. _It sounds like it's coming from a different section of the city..._ she told herself. _We've still got some time, but..._

Beneda hadn't finished the thought before a second howl answered the first, this one to her right. Then a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, more and more inhuman cries joining the chorus each second, until she lost all hope of counting them. Terror in her eyes, she looked desperately over at Ryouga.

The human looked back, his expression grim. "We have to run."

Quickly, he moved over to his backpack. The straps that had held his umbrella to its top had been broken when he had ripped it free, so he simply opened it and stuffed the weapon inside. He didn't try to pack the sleeping bag or anything else, simply swung the backpack onto his back. Then, before Beneda could even react, he swiped her off her feet and took off like a shot.

She had thought they had been going fast before. Only now, when Ryouga _really_ started to run did she realize how wrong she had been. The trees blurred by on either side of them, and in seconds they burst out of the small park and back into the city.

Ryouga immediately launched them toward the rooftops, ricocheting of the wall of a nearby building. Without pause he shot forward, rocketing from roof to roof, as Beneda hung onto him for dear life.

The human threw a glance back over his shoulder, and then increased his speed even more. Fearful, Beneda twisted her head to look behind them, but there was nothing visible.

Then a dark shadow leapt, panther-like, up from behind one of the buildings, followed closely by a second, and a third. Beneda's breath caught in her throat—even as she detected motion out of the corner of her eye. She turned, and saw two more shadows angling in on them from the side. And there! Five of them closing on their other flank!

More and more kept appearing, faster than her eyes could keep up. Soon there were well over thirty of the things, following relentlessly in their wake, like a black wave sweeping across the city.

And they were gaining.

Gritting his teeth, Ryogua shifted his grip on Beneda to hold her with one arm. With his other hand, he reached up and grabbed at the bandana around his head, somehow pulling away _four_ of them. Without looking back, he threw them at their pursuers, the strips of cloth scything blade-like through the air in a wide arc. But the creatures veered around them all, their ranks splitting and reforming with unnatural coordination.

Following suit, Beneda raised her hand and with a thought, transformed it into one of her shuriken. It was time to put some of her acquired energy to use.

She sighted back over Ryogua's shoulder, then began to fire as fast as she could. The blades whirled back at their foes, targeting the larger clusters. None of them hit, although dodging them did slow their targets' approach.

But it wasn't enough. There were too many of them, coming in too fast. Soon they had cut the distance to twenty yards. Then ten. Then five. Their ranks were hemming their prey in on either side now, as well as from behind.

Beneda's breathing was ragged from the exertion of firing so many shots, her vision blurring a little at the edges. But she grimly targeted the nearest creature, which was practically at their heels, and fired.

That was what the thing had been waiting for. It leaped clear over her blade, hurtling toward them with a scream of triumph, its drool-coated fangs bared.

Beneda's eyes widened in fear, only to have the creature vanish from her sight as Ryouga twisted violently down into a crouch. She could feel the air displacement as the thing shot mere inches over their heads. Then the human's hand shot up, grabbing it and hurling it to the left, where it crashed headlong into another of its fellows that was trying to attack, sending them both tumbling.

Even as those foes collided, three more of the creatures were lunging in from the opposite side. But at the last instant the human jumped out of his crouch, using one of the beasts' heads as a stepping stone into a flip that carried himself and Beneda over their assault. He hit the ground running.

But the creatures' ranks reformed quickly. He had barely taken a few steps before they were swarming after him again. Dodging and weaving around the creatures' attacks, he reached edge of the roof with them hot on his heels, and jumped across to the next roof over.

Immediately on landing he threw a kick straight behind him, catching one of the beasts in mid-flight as it tried to follow him over, and sending it plummeting down to the alley below. But it was only followed by dozens more, jumping the gap on either side of him.

He continued to speed across the rooftops, spinning, jumping, twisting as he went, trying to avoid the flying bodies and their slashing claws that came at him from every direction. Every so often he would give a grunt of pain, as one of the attacks got through. Beneda noticed with a chill that they seemed to be coming increasingly often.

He shifted his hold on Beneda back and forth between his arms, as he used the other to fend off attacks on either side. Parry! Parry! Duck! Redirect! Counterattack! He continued to plow through them—but they showed no signs of weariness, while his breathing was starting to grow ragged. And the creatures' coordination was only increasing.

Beneda's heart caught in her throat as over eight of them made a simultaneous charge, trying to dogpile the pair. It was followed by sudden lurch, as Ryouga hurled her straight up into the air. Beneath her, both hands now free, the human exploded in a whirlwind of techniques that caught his attackers off-guard, sending them flying in every direction. Then he caught her on the way down, springing off to the side to the next roof through a hole in their line.

The things followed relentlessly. Back in Ryouga's grasp, Beneda realized that he had not escaped the last exchange unscathed; there was a deep gash running from his shoulder to the center of his chest. It had just missed his throat.

_This is bad!_ she thought, trying desperately to come up with a plan._ If it goes on like this... we're done for!_ But she could think of nothing.

Ryouga ran for the next roof—but this time there were creatures already waiting for them on the other side. Altering his course, he jumped down into the alley between the two buildings.

A half-dozen beasts shot into the gap after him, hot on his tail. But even as he fell he was dodging. A claw slash that would have decapitated him missed, as he kicked off a nearby wall. Then he kicked off the opposite wall to come flying back—and drive his fist into the thing's head.

Pursuers and pursued alike ricocheted from wall to wall, forming an intricate aerial pattern as they descended. When Ryouga at last hit the ground in a crouch, he was preceded by the dead bodies of two more of the creatures, killed in midair. But far more of them landed unharmed, and there were even more than that pouring down from above.

Ryouga threw himself backward, crashing straight through the wall behind him, and into the dark, empty grocery store that lay on the other side. He ran through the aisles, finally breaking through the opposite wall and back out onto the street.

And he ran. Ran for their lives. Ran through the streets, feet pounding across the pavement, the dark shadows dogging his steps at every turn. He dodged them, struck back at them, keeping up their running battle. But it was growing increasingly hopeless. With each attack he avoided, with each attack he failed to avoid, they were wearing him down.

Then the decisive blow came. One of the beasts caught him square in the back with a tackle, sending him sprawling. He lost his grip on Beneda as he fell, and she hit the ground hard, rolling several feet before coming to a stop. She looked up, just in time to see the creature crushing Ryouga's head into the ground, about to sink its teeth into the human's neck from behind.

Whipping her hand up with every ounce of speed she possessed, she formed a shuriken and fired it point-blank. The blade caught the creature square in the skull; it gave a little whine and then crumpled forward.

Beneda had no time to savor her victory, though, as there were already a half-dozen of the beasts, leaping at her from behind. She whirled, throwing up her hands in a futile gesture of defense.

Then she felt herself yanked back, out of the way. The next thing she knew, Ryouga was shielding her with his body, while at the same time stabbing a single finger into the street in front of him.

"_Bakusai Tenketsu!_" he roared, followed a split-second later by a thunderous explosion that peppered the creatures with concrete shrapnel. They screamed in pain and rage, backing hurriedly away.

From behind, another group of them charged. Ryouga jumped to the other side of Beneda, his finger striking twice this time, creating two more of the spectacular blasts. The creatures on that side backed away as well, wary of this new development.

They began to circle their wearied prey, sometimes making quick attacks, only to be driven back by the strange explosions. But they were patient. Time was on their side, and as they grew accustomed to the timing, range and damage of the blasts, they became bolder and bolder.

When they finally made their move, it was as devastating as it was sudden. With perfect unison they charged en masse, an overwhelming wave of muscle, fangs and claws.

Ryouga threw Beneda to the ground and stood over her, bracing himself for the onslaught. But she could see it was futile. There were just too many of them, coming in from every direction. There was no way to defend against them all. A hopeless scream caught in her throat, as the dark shadows blurred toward them.

Then, out of nowhere, an even faster blur shot across her field of vision.

It slammed into the foremost creature, sending it flying through the air in a crazy, end-over-end spin. Before the beasts could even process the sudden, unexpected attack, two more had been knocked skidding across the ground, colliding with their fellows in a tangle of limbs.

One of the animals was able to adjust its course, trying to attack the new threat. But the blur—a human?—simply threw himself into a backflip, catching the thing's head between his feet. The creature howled as it was wrenched in a wide arc over the newcomer, finally ending as the blur drove the creature's head straight into the concrete.

The other beasts scrambled backward, their attack forgotten in the face of this new threat. Beneda watched, her eyes wide, as the blur resolved itself into a clearly discernable human form.

Behind her, she heard Ryouga make a strangled, unintelligible noise—like someone had just stuck a dagger between his ribs. The newcomer, for his part, simply glanced over his shoulder at them, a grin on his features.

"Hey, P-chan!" he called out, jerking a thumb back toward the assembled throng of creatures. "What the heck have you gotten yourself into _this_ time?"


	4. Turning Tables

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Four: Turning Tables

Ryouga's jaw dropped a little, as he stared at the pigtailed newcomer. Then, at last, he found his voice. "_Ranma?_" he demanded incredulously. "What are _you_ doing in China?"

His rival only rolled his eyes, then pointed wordlessly across the street. Ryouga's gaze followed the gesture—and only then did he finally recognize the building he had been fighting directly in front of. _What the...? That's the Tendo dojo!_

The lost boy blinked twice—before the sound of menacing growls dragged his thoughts abruptly back to the matter at hand. The creatures had begun to regroup from the surprise attack, and were circling the three of them with predatory looks in their eyes.

"So..." Ranma said conversationally, shifting his weight into a fighting stance while keeping a careful eye on the surrounding animals. "What's the deal with these things?"

At first, Ryouga's only reply was to grind his teeth. Saved... by Ranma! _Ranma!_ How would he ever live this down? Horrible, mortifying visions danced through the lost boy's mind, as he imagined his rival smugly lording this moment over him for the rest of his life.

Still, in the end, even he had to admit that accepting Ranma's help was better than gruesome dismemberment. Only _slightly_ better... but better nonetheless.

"They're some kind of tracking animal," Ryouga finally answered, albeit grudgingly. "They're very fast when they come at you straight, but they don't handle turns as well. Also, their attacks don't have much variety once you get used to them."

Ranma listened to the lost boy's rundown of the situation, then nodded. "Got it," he said. Then he glanced down at Beneda, raising his eyebrows a little in curiosity. "And who's she?"

Ryouga glanced down at her as well, then smiled. "A friend," he replied warmly.

Then suddenly, his danger sense was screaming at him. He whirled around, shrugging the massive backpack from his shoulders, and swung it into the creature that was trying to attack him from behind.

The blow knocked the animal away, but already more were swarming in behind it. In response, Ryouga reached into his pack and grabbed hold of his umbrella, relishing its familiar heft.

With one savage motion, he ripped the weapon out of the backpack and into the neck of the nearest creature. Then he ducked under the leap of another—only to stab upward with the umbrella's tip into the thing's stomach. Its broken body went flying clear over the three defenders. From that upraised position, he swung the umbrella back down like an axe onto the skull of the next animal.

Behind him, he could hear similar sounds of combat, and a quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Ranma too was under fierce attack. The Anything-Goes heir had moved to stand on the opposite side of Beneda, so that she was sandwiched tightly between the two boys. From there, he was lashing out at any of the beasts that came within his reach, his legs striking several times a second, his hands blurring almost to invisibility.

Despite himself, the lost boy gave a tiny smirk at the sight. Now, they each had to fight only half the enemy's number. Now, the things could no longer attack him from every direction at once. Now, he no longer had to tie up his hands keeping Beneda out of harm's way.

Now, they just might be able to pull this off.

* * *

Ranma slipped underneath a claw slash, then grabbed hold of the limb before the creature could retract it. Gritting his teeth, he wrenched the animal over him in a shoulder throw, tossing it straight into a second one. At the same time, his leg shot out several times behind him, sending a third reeling back as well.

Before it could recover, he darted in close and savaged it with an Amaguriken barrage. Then he jumped back, just in time to knock away a fourth with an elbow to the side of its head. _Just how many of these things are there?_ he wondered.

He glanced over his shoulder, checking on his rival. The lost boy, for his part, was looking a little ragged around the edges. He had already been in pretty bad shape even before Ranma had shown up to lend a hand, and it looked like he'd taken a couple more hits since then. His breath was coming heavy, and he seemed to be favoring his left side.

The pigtailed fighter gave a lopsided smirk. "Not slowing down on me, are you P-chan?" he called back, while driving his foot into a creature's face. "Y'know, if you want to rest and let me handle things, I can cover for you easy..."

The effect of the taunt was something akin to jabbing Ryouga with live current. His back went ramrod-straight in an instant, weariness completely forgotten. "Like hell, Ranma!" he shouted back over his shoulder, his umbrella strikes taking on renewed vigor. "Once these things are done with, I'll show you how tired I am!"

Ranma hopped over a creature's charge, then slammed both feet down like pistons to drive it face-first into the street. "Yeah, sure..." he retorted, rolling his eyes—even as he launched another withering storm of punches. "Just like you show me _every_ time we fight..."

The lost boy growled at that, his battle aura rising along with his rage. "Just enjoy it while it lasts..." he seethed furiously. "Because someday soon, I'm going to give you the thrashing you deserve!" With an angry snap, he opened his umbrella and sent it spinning like a buzz-saw toward a group of the beasts, slashing into the unlucky ones that couldn't scatter fast enough.

Ranma only laughed. "Dream on, porkchop," he said, punctuating the comment by deftly catching two creatures by their heads and slamming them together, then kicking them both away. "You know you've never had a prayer of actually beating me..."

"_What_ was that you said, you rotten, womanizing bastard?" The anger in the lost boy's voice now sounded like it was approaching apoplectic levels.

"Heh. And here I thought it was just your sense of direction that was bad—not your hearing too!"

"_Why you—!_" Abruptly, the pigtailed fighter found himself wrenched around, Ryouga hoisting him into the air by the front of his shirt.

"Idiot!" shouted Ranma, as one of the creatures lunged at Ryouga's now-unprotected back. He quickly planted his hands on the lost boy's shoulders, twisting himself over his rival's head to kick the animal away. In reply, Ryouga dove underneath his rival's attack, slamming his fist into the creature that had been about to attack _Ranma_ from behind. The two landed back to back once more, with Beneda still huddled on the ground between them, their positions now reversed.

Ranma noticed that Ryouga's umbrella was now spinning back on its return path. He caught it, snapping it shut and flipping it back through the air in one smooth move. "Here ya go... moron," he said.

Ryouga caught it in mid-flip, and then swung it straight into another one of the creatures. "Thank you... cretin."

And with that, both boys returned their attention to the business of plowing through their foes.

* * *

The Keeper sprinted through the streets, flanked on either side by a Hound. Together, they rushed to reinforce the main group that had brought their quarry to bay. The Keeper's eyes were wide and frenzied. She could feel that things were going badly for her pets, could feel each of their deaths echo within her, and she was desperate to reach them as quickly as possible.

She knew she was nearly there, the din of battle growing more audible with each step. Crashes, howls, battle cries, one particularly loud crunching sound—and then the body of a Hound came flying into view from around the corner of a building.

It hit the concrete hard, rolling end over end until at last it came to a stop in front of them. The other Hounds rushed around it to join in the fray, but the Keeper herself skidded to a halt, dropping anxiously to her knees to look at the animal's injuries.

She could see almost at once that it was hopeless. Its body was a broken ruin, barely clinging to life. One eye swiveled weakly in its socket, somehow managing to look up at the Keeper. The Hound made a small, wet noise in the back of its throat, imploring its mistress to help it.

The Keeper's hands clenched into fists, trembling at her helplessness. At last she reached out, giving the animal's cheek a gentle stroke, murmuring softly to it. It gurgled happily despite the pain it was in, its gaze following the movement of her fingers across its face.

Then the youma struck with her other hand, instantly snapping the Hound's neck. It slumped, the look of agony in its face relaxing into a blank nothingness. A single, dry sob shook the Keeper's frame.

Then she raised her head, looking up to where the battle was still raging. And there was murder in her eyes.

* * *

Beneda watched, awestruck, as the two fighters beat back wave after wave of the creatures. They were an astonishing study in contrasts. Agility and speed. Durability and power. Between the two of them, the ground was now littered with bodies.

And yet the attacks continued relentlessly. She could see that the constant onslaught was pushing the two humans hard. Even the blindingly-fast Ranma had taken a couple gashes, and Ryouga was looking even more chewed up. Still, they were slowly whittling down the beasts' numbers, and victory seemed to be in sight.

It was then that she heard the rage-filled scream.

She froze for an instant, her blood chilled by the raw hatred that the cry contained. Then she jerked her head around, searching for its source.

There! Dashing headlong toward the three defenders was a hunched youma, with countless scars crisscrossing her grey skin. The beasts parted around her as she ran at them, pulling back a short distance. Beneda started to wonder why they had paused in their attack—but before she could even complete the thought, she heard Ranma raise his voice in a shout. "_Move!_"

Even as he yelled his warning, the attacking youma was reaching behind her back. She grabbed hold of something, then swung her arm forward faster than Beneda could follow. There was a loud _crack_—

—and suddenly, Beneda was clutched in Ranma's arms, several feet away. The next instant, something ripped through the air to their left, smashing into the street where they had just been standing. The entire area was showered with concrete shrapnel, but Ranma twisted to shield her with his body.

Looking to her left, across the smoking gash that had been carved by the attack, Beneda saw that Ryouga had mirrored his faster companion's dodge. Then, as the dust cleared, she caught her first glimpse of what the other youma had struck with.

It was a whip. Long, thick and sinuous, it lay on the ground, trailing back over twenty feet to its wielder. The weapon crackled with dark energy, running up and down its length, occasionally arcing to the ground. Beneda swallowed, hard. That was not something she wanted getting anywhere near her.

Seeing that her attack had failed, the grey-skinned youma snarled and yanked her weapon back. "I'll kill you all..." she hissed at them. "You miserable pieces of _filth!_" With that she swung at them again, the whip slashing around sideways in a wide arc.

Still keeping a tight grip on Beneda, Ranma dove forward in a roll that carried them underneath the attack. Undeterred, the youma launched into a rapid-fire barrage of whip strikes. Ranma dodged furiously, juking left and right, ducking and jumping. The countless missed attacks tore up the street around them, shattering concrete with each blow.

To their left, Ryouga charged toward the new attacker, but before he had taken three steps he was swarmed by the remaining creatures. For a moment, Beneda was afraid he would be overrun.

Just before the beasts hit him, however, the lost boy snapped open his umbrella. What had once been a club was now a shield. He twisted it back and forth around himself, warding off their attacks while retaliating with vicious kicks.

None of the creatures were attacking her or Ranma, though. None could get near, as the youma's assault rained down carnage all around them. But somehow, the pigtailed boy always managed to be somewhere her weapon wasn't. It was uncanny, the way he moved. More than just speed, he _flowed_ with every twist of the whip, as though he had been told each strike was coming ahead of time.

And yet, strangely enough, their attacker didn't seem distressed by her inability to hit them. In fact, Beneda could see the faintest shadow of a smirk pulling at the other youma's mouth. The whip slashed at them once more. Once more, Ranma dodged it easily—

—and then, in an absolutely impossible movement, the whip reversed direction in mid-swing.

There was no warning, no movement on the youma's part that could have redirected the weapon's path. In that moment, the whip ceased moving _as_ a whip and instead moved as a living thing. Ranma, caught by surprise, was unable to dodge. The most he could do was twist his body, taking the attack on his shoulder instead of his head.

There was a blinding discharge of energy, followed by a sizzle and a scream. The world spun in crazy circles around Beneda, as they were flung through the air by the blow. Then they hit the concrete, hard, the youma tumbling out of the human's grip on impact.

Beneda lifted her head as quickly as she could, and saw that Ranma was already on his feet in a crouch. He was wincing in pain, and while his left arm was raised in a fighting stance, his right arm hung useless at his side, twitching spasmodically.

Then their attacker struck again—this time abandoning all pretense that her whip was a normal one. The weapon stabbed, slashed and swung at Ranma from every conceivable angle, a whirling, twisting maelstrom of deadly coils. Between the speed of the motion and the showers of flying debris, Beneda couldn't see either the whip or Ranma distinctly. But she could tell that the human was being forced to backpedal, trying to keep one step ahead of the unnatural lash.

Then, without warning, the grey-skinned youma's head snapped violently back.

Their enemy staggered, her whip barrage abruptly halting as she fought to maintain her balance. "What—? How—?" she managed to croak out, even as she clutched at her forehead in pain.

Beneda turned to look back at Ranma, who was standing amidst the wrecked road, a smirk on his face. By way of an answer, he lifted his foot behind him, then drove it downward, kicking the ground.

The impact sent three broken chunks of concrete—conveniently left lying around by all the youma's attacks—spinning into the air. Immediately, Ranma's leg lashed out three more times, almost vanishing from Beneda's sight. Each kick sent one of the improvised projectiles hurtling bullet-like toward the attacking youma.

Even wobbly as she was, the youma managed to duck the first of them. But the second one caught her directly in her center of mass, and the third hit her in her shoulder, spinning her around and dropping her on her face. Ranma watched her, massaging his right arm at the same time, working the feeling back into it.

Slowly, the grey-skinned youma pulled herself to her hands and knees, looking wildly around. Her gaze went from Ranma, to Beneda, to where Ryouga stood—and her eyes widened in horror at the last.

Beneda turned as well, and saw how the human had fared. He stood there, gasping for breath, leaning heavily on his umbrella—but with a feral smile on his face—surrounded by a ring of beast corpses. There were little more than a half-dozen of the creatures left now. And even those survivors were starting to cringe away from him.

"You're through, lady," Ranma's voice interjected, drawing Beneda's attention back to him and the other youma. "Give it up. It's over."

"Over?" rasped the youma, her voice almost breaking, her hands trembling with fury as they closed around the handle of her whip. "_Over?_ This is not over! _This is not over!_" With a scream, she swung her weapon around in another attack.

This time, it was aimed at Beneda.

Her eyes barely had the chance to widen in fear before the living weapon coiled around her wrist. Its dark lightning burned all along her arm, causing her to cry out in agony. Then she was yanked headlong toward the other youma.

The whip dragged her roughly across the road, until at last a vise-like grip clamped around her neck, hauling her to her feet. The grey-skinned youma flexed the fingers of her other hand, and long serrated claws burst from them—eerily reminiscent of the creatures' own. She pressed them up against Beneda's neck, holding her as a shield. "Surrender!" she screeched at them, a crazed note in her voice. "Surrender, or I rip out her throat!"

Pain from the whip's energy wracked Beneda, mixing with the cold terror filling her stomach. Her eyes were locked helplessly, pleadingly, on the two humans. At the same time, her memory flickered back, unbidden, to her own escape from the Sailor Senshi, where she had used just this tactic. But she knew with terrifying certainty that there was no way it could work this time. This time, obedience to the youma's demands would mean Ranma and Ryouga's certain deaths.

Ranma raised his hands, showing her his open palms. "Hey, c'mon..." he said, while walking slowly toward her at an oblique angle. "Let's talk about this..."

"Not another step!" the youma shouted. Then she turned to Ryouga. "You! Throw down your weapon! _Now_, or she dies!"

Ryouga glanced over at Ranma, their eyes meeting for a long moment. Then, to Beneda's utter disbelief, the human tossed his umbrella off to the side, where it landed with a heavy crash. "All right," he said. "Just... don't hurt her."

The grey-skinned youma laughed triumphantly. "Yes, you don't want any harm to come to this little wretch, do you? For her sake, you defy the Dark Kingdom. For her sake you kill and mutilate my precious pets!" She laughed, then, a low, nasty laugh. "I wonder... is _she_ precious to you as well? Would it hurt _you_, to see _her_ body broken and shredded?"

Ranma's eyes narrowed, and a cold look entered them. "Not gonna happen," he stated firmly, taking a couple more steps while he spoke. He barely got any closer to the youma, though—circling her clockwise instead. "Look. Why don't you just let her go, take your dogs... or whatever... and get out of here? Trust me, you ain't gonna like the other choices."

The human paused for a moment—then continued to speak. "Heck... we might even need to sic Akane's barber on you." At those words, Ryouga jerked as though stung, then narrowed his eyes, an unreadable expression clouding his face.

"No!" the youma shouted back. "Threaten all you want! I will have _blood_ for what you've done!"

The human shrugged, flashing a mocking smile. "Well, Ryouga _is_ doing a lot of bleeding over there..." he said helpfully, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder to his left—as he continued to circle. "You even nicked me up a bit. Sure that's not enough? I mean, c'mon, they're just a bunch of mutts..."

The grey-skinned youma howled in blind, animalistic rage, and Beneda felt the grip around her throat tighten until she could no longer breathe. _Why? Why is he making her angrier?_ she wondered desperately.

"_On your knees!_" the youma screamed, and Beneda could feel spittle striking her cheek. "Get on your _knees!_ My Hounds will tear off your limbs, and _then_ we will see how much you can bleed!"

Ranma continued to circle, looking his enemy directly in the eye. "Last chance, lady," he said. "Walk away."

"_On your knees!_"

The human closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then nodded. "All right," he said. "All right, you win. I'll just kneel dow—"

And in that exact moment, Ranma casually took the final step in the arc he had been walking. The step where he crossed in front of Ryouga. The step that—for just the briefest instant—obscured the other human from their enemy's view.

What happened next, Beneda was only able to piece together afterward. A blur, long and thin, shot through the air between them with blinding speed. Ranma didn't flinch as it sliced a shallow cut across his right cheek. It hurtled onward, hissing past Beneda's ear before she was even consciously aware of it.

The next thing she knew, the grip on her neck was gone.

She crumpled to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Instantly, Ranma was by her side, taking up a defensive stance over her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ryouga dive for his discarded umbrella, then roll back to his feet facing the surviving creatures.

Shakily, she turned to see what had happened to her captor. The grey-skinned youma was flat on her back, her neck at a crooked angle, with something long and thin embedded squarely between her eyes. It took her a few seconds to recognize the object as Ryouga's belt. Only now it was no longer flexible, but as straight and as hard as a rod. Or a spear.

Then Beneda caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She whirled back toward it, forming a shuriken on her arm reflexively.

Her eyes widened in surprise at what she saw. The remaining creatures were indeed advancing. But they were doing so slowly, and not toward any of their prey. The beasts filed silently past the three defenders, taking up positions in a circle around the body of their mistress.

As all of them looked on, the youma gave a final twitch. Then, slowly, her body began to crumble into dust. At this, the creatures all raised their heads, and the night was pierced by long, echoing howls of grief and anguish.

It continued until the body had finished disintegrating. Then, one by one, the creatures approached the mound of dust and used their claws—poorly suited for such a task though they were—to slowly scrape up the remains. Each animal took a portion, and Beneda realized with a start that they were each expending a portion of their own life energy to keep the dust from dissipating completely. One of them picked up their mistress' fallen whip between its teeth.

The three defenders continued to watch, without speaking or moving, as the creatures then walked silently away. Soon they were lost to the night, and all was still.

A few moments later, Ranma turned to the other two. "C'mon," he said, pointing to the building across the street. "You guys better get inside. No telling if those things'll be back or not."

* * *

Beneda stumbled through the outer gates of the compound, across the yard, and through the doorway of the building at its center, following numbly in Ranma's steps all the way. Her close brush with death was beginning to catch up with her; she was feeling light-headed, and she couldn't quite stop her hands from shaking.

Behind her followed Ryouga, also stumbling a little, but for different reasons. Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she shook her head in amazement. Only now, with the better lighting that the building provided, did she really see just how clawed up the human had been. He was limping a little, and his shirt no longer resembled clothing so much as a torn mass of bloody scraps. _He was fighting in that condition?_ she thought, in silent wonderment.

Ranma, however, was not silent by any stretch of the imagination. "You look like hell, man," he said. "Did those things really mess you up _that_ bad?"

"Shut up, Ranma." Ryouga's voice was tired, as he dragged himself through the door. "You didn't have to fight all of them at once."

Ranma made an unconvinced noise, at which Ryouga lifted his head in annoyance. "Besides!" he snapped. "Most of these aren't even all _that_ deep..."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say..." replied Ranma with a flippant shrug—prompting an angry growl from Ryouga. But anything the other boy might have said was interrupted by the sound of running feet. Then, a moment later, several more humans came hurrying up to them.

In the lead was a short-haired girl, wearing a yellow uniform of some kind, and holding what looked like a bamboo sword. She was followed closely by two men. One was wearing a strange, ancient-looking suit of armor and carrying a bow, while the other was wearing a white version of the girl's uniform, and had no weapon. Bringing up the rear were two more girls, one with short hair, the other with long. The latter was holding a frying pan tentatively in front of her.

"Ranma!" shouted the girl in the lead, anxiously. "Ryouga! Are you—?" She broke off with a gasp when she saw the condition that Ryouga was in.

"A-A-Akane!" stuttered Ryouga, who for his part turned a little red, and began to twiddle his fingers anxiously. "How n-n-nice to b-bump into y-you like this... I r-really..."

"You're bleeding all over!" the girl—Akane—interrupted, hurrying over to him. Then she turned back to the armor-clad man in a mixture of distress and anger. "_See_, daddy? I told you that you should have let me go help them!"

The statement elicited a derisive snort from Ranma. Akane immediately rounded on him. "And what's _that_ supposed to mean, Ranma?" she asked dangerously.

"It _means_ you'd only have gotten in the way," responded the pigtailed boy. "Ryouga'd probably have gotten himself even _more_ beat up trying to look after you."

The girl's eyes were blazing now. "I can take care of myself!" she shouted, emphasizing her point by swinging at him with her bamboo sword.

But it was a futile attempt, as the boy only dodged her blows, laughing as he did so. "Doesn't look like it to me!" he shot back, sticking out his tongue at her.

Unfortunately, he wasn't paying attention to Ryouga as he dodged—and as a result, he didn't see the other boy surreptitiously stick out his leg. Ranma backpedaled right into it, tripping onto his rear. Which, in turn, allowed the bamboo sword to finally connect with his skull, driving him the rest of the way to the floor.

With a satisfied huff, Akane turned back to Ryouga. "Come on," she said. "I'll get the first aid kit and bandage you up."

Ryouga's eyes bulged. "Um... I... T-That is..." he babbled incoherently, staring hard at the floor. "I would... an honor... b-by your h-h-hands... I mean..."

Behind them, Ranma sat back up again, glaring at Ryouga while rubbing his head and muttering something under his breath about "uncute tomboys." Nevertheless, he went with the rest of the group as they walked into the main room of the house.

Beneda kept her distance, trying her best to remain in the background while she tried to think through this new development. These people were evidently friends of Ryouga, and she thought she recognized some of them from the stories he had told her. But how they would fit into this situation was something she had no idea yet.

Aside from Akane, who had been preoccupied with Ryouga's wounds, most of the others had been taking curious, guarded glances at her throughout the unfolding squabble. Beneda tried hard not to meet any of their eyes, keeping her gaze low and trying to appear non-threatening. As yet, none of them had gone so far as to address her directly, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She needed to have her story straight in her head before then.

Upon reaching the main room, Akane dashed off, and soon came back with a small white box. From it, she pulled a roll of bandages, and a container of liquid—probably some kind of disinfectant—then promptly set to work on Ryouga. A few moments later, the other, longer-haired girl slipped quietly in beside Ranma and began to do the same to him, treating the handful of cuts he had received.

Beneda noticed that, strangely enough, even though the other girl seemed a _far_ more skilled nurse than Akane, it was Ranma who seemed to be sneaking jealous glares over at Ryouga, rather than the reverse. Odd.

They sat there in strained silence for a little while, before the long-haired man finally spoke up. "So Ryouga..." he said, his voice carefully neutral. "You haven't yet introduced us to your companion."

Ryouga looked up, a little startled. "Oh! I apologize," he said. "This is my friend, Beneda. I met her when I was in Hokkaido, and we've been traveling together since then." _That_ statement made Beneda cock her head a little. She knew next to nothing about the geography of the human world, but even _she_ was pretty sure they had been nowhere near there when they met.

Before she could decide what to make of that, Ryouga was moving on. "Beneda, this is the Tendo family—Soun, Kasumi, Nabiki and Akane." He indicated each one in turn as he spoke. Then he gestured to the bald man with the white bandana. "And this is Saotome Genma, father of Saotome Ranma—" a small growl entered his voice at the last name "—who you've already met."

Beneda hesitated for a moment, trying to recall everything she'd ever heard about human greeting customs... which wasn't much. So, not knowing what else to do—and considering her situation—she decided to simply go for broke. She moved to a kneeling position, and then bowed her head to the ground in a universal gesture of abasement. "Thank you, all of you, for sheltering me like this," she said. "I owe you my life."

"Think nothing of it!" replied the heavyset man—Genma, she reminded herself. "It's a martial artist's duty to protect those in need, right Tendo?"

"Yes, yes..." agreed Soun, nodding. Then he hesitated. "Er... what exactly was it that you needed protection from?"

"Unfortunately, a lot of things," interjected Ryouga, his voice grim. "Those creatures we fought tonight were from a group called the Dark Kingdom. Also there's a bunch of overzealous monster hunters that are after her as well, called the Sailor Senshi." For her part, Beneda wished he hadn't put the matter _quite_ so bluntly.

"Sailor Senshi..." Genma muttered, frowning in thought. "Monster hunters, you say? I don't think I've heard of them before."

"That's because they're new." The small group turned as one to look at the new speaker—the girl called Nabiki. She stood in one of the far corners of the room, her arms crossed. "They've only been on the scene for the last month or two—depending on how many of the stories you believe."

Akane looked up from trying to bandage Ryouga—which at this point was looking more like a hopelessly tangled attempt at mummification than anything else. "You know about these... Senshi, Nabiki?" she asked, sounding a little surprised.

Nabiki's eyes glinted. "I do have a... tiny interest in them," she said, giving Beneda a long, calculating look. Then she glanced idly away, and said no more.

Suddenly, Ranma snapped his fingers. "Yeah..." he said. "Yeah! I remember now! Hiroshi and Daisuke were talking about them in school just a week ago! Daisuke was sure they were just some kind of urban legend floating around Minato ward, but Hiroshi swore he knew a guy whose cousin's friend had seen them herself."

"Believe me," said Beneda. "They're _very_ real. And they're very deadly to my kind. They can't be reasoned with, and they won't be satisfied until they've wiped out every last one of us."

That statement elicited a small gasp from Akane, and a startled "Oh my!" from the one called Kasumi. Beneda turned to look at Nabiki, who only gazed back with an unreadable expression on her face... then raised one eyebrow ever so slightly. The youma felt a small chill run down the length of her back.

"Well I don't know what their deal is," announced Ranma. "But as long as you're staying here, you don't have to worry about any Sailor Senshi or Dark Whatevers getting to you, right Mr. Tendo?"

Soun nodded, while Genma slapped Ranma heartily on the back. "That's the spirit, boy!" he said. "There's no way some two-bit gang of monsters or greenhorn monster hunters can stand up to the heir of the Saotome style!"

Ranma snorted. "Thanks, pop," he said dryly. "And what about the_ founder_ of the Saotome stlye? What's _he_ gonna be doing while all this is going on?"

Immediately, Genma assumed an air of wounded dignity. "What are you saying, boy?" he asked. "I have every confidence you'll be able to handle this. It'll be good training for you!" Ranma only rolled his eyes in response.

Beneda felt a tap on her shoulder, and turned to see Akane standing next to her. The "bandaging" of Ryouga had evidently been completed. "Hey," she said, giving the youma a warm smile. "Why don't you come upstairs and I'll show you around? You can spend the night in my room, if you want. Trust me, you don't want to share the guest room with a _pervert_ like Ranma." The last few words were very clearly aimed in the direction of the pigtailed martial artist, who simply scoffed and looked away.

Ryouga looked up at that. "Wait a minute," he said. "What about the room that the old letch used to stay in? She could use that one."

A strained silence fell on the group, causing Ryouga to look back and forth in confusion. Finally, Ranma spoke up. "Well... you see..." he began, looking a little uncomfortable. "The thing is... There was this town that we went to help a couple days ago. They said they were having problems with a 'living octopus trap', but what it actually turned out to be was..."

As Ranma continued to relate the story, Ryouga's eyes grew wider and wider. Then, at the story's conclusion, he exploded into a burst of rage. "_You let him come back with you?_"

"Well..."

"I don't _believe_ this! After all the hell we went through to have Pantyhose Taro drag him off, you just _let him come back with you?_" With a roar, Ryouga lunged at the other boy, and soon the two of them were locked in fierce combat.

Akane sighed, shaking her head. "Come on, let's go upstairs," she said resignedly to Beneda. "Those two idiots are probably going to be at this all night."

* * *

_So..._ thought Beneda, as she looked curiously around the room. _This is how a human lives._

Of course, she had no idea whatsoever if Akane's room was representative of a normal one. Bed, desk, chair, some shelves with books and other knickknacks on them—she took them all in for a moment. Then she turned back to the girl herself. "Thank you for letting me sleep here," she told her. It seemed the proper thing to say.

"Oh, don't worry about it," said Akane. "Any friend of Ryouga's is a friend of mine. Besides—" here she leaned a little closer to Beneda, almost conspiratorially "—it'll be nice to have another girl around here to talk to. I mean, Kasumi is wonderful, but she always acts so grown up, and Nabiki is, well... Nabiki."

Beneda raised her eyebrows at that, unsure of what to say. This human seemed to consider their shared _gender_ to be a stronger unifying factor than the difference in their species—something that rather boggled the youma. Not that she would turn down a chance to ingratiate herself with her hosts, of course.

And really, it wasn't just this girl. _None_ of these new humans seemed to consider the idea of chatting with a youma to be much stranger than Ryouga himself had. There had been some amount of guarded caution, but for all the reaction they gave, one would think that this kind of thing was a commonplace occurrence around here!

Beneda walked over to the bed, then sat down on one of the corners as she tried to collect her thoughts. All these twists of fate and circumstance... they were fortunate, without question. But they were also more confusing than anything Beneda had ever encountered before.

When Ryouga had rescued her, she had assumed that he must have had some hidden motive for doing so, some use that he intended to make of her. That assumption, however, was becoming increasingly implausible with every passing moment. Now there were all these _other_ humans, also ready to jump in and protect her—a total stranger. It didn't make any _sense_.

The youma looked up at Akane. "Can I... ask you something?" she said, on sudden impulse.

"Sure. What is it?"

Beneda hesitated. "Why are you doing this?" she finally blurted out. "All of you, helping me. Why?"

Akane looked a little puzzled at the question. "Well, you needed the help, right?" she asked. "I mean, I know _I_ wouldn't like to be ripped apart by those dog-things... and I really wouldn't want it to happen to anyone else either."

The youma frowned and looked away, her confusion no less than before. _Just like that?_ she thought to herself. _Just that simple?_

It was all crazy, of course. Completely, totally idiotic. If humans actually thought that way, then it was a wonder they had lasted this long. And no wonder at all that they would soon be conquered by her kind. Survival was a question of looking out for yourself; anything less would get you trampled by those all too ready to exploit such a weakness.

But even so... looking over at Akane's smiling face, Beneda had to admit that it was pleasant enough to be on the receiving end of such foolishness. The idea that these humans really, truly _wanted_ her to be alive, to be safe... it was a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

A tiny part of her wondered if she would miss it, once she had succeeded in all her plans.

* * *

The fight ended up drifting into the dojo before its eventual conclusion, but contrary to Akane's predictions it had taken less than ten minutes to resolve. Most of the reason, Ranma had to admit, was due to how spent Ryouga already was, and he privately resolved not to tease his rival about the speedy defeat. Too much.

Currently, Ryouga was lying flat on his face on the dojo floor, while Ranma leaned against one of the dojo walls. The lost boy's bandages had come undone early in the fight—considering the dubious quality of Akane's work, there had been little Ranma could have done to prevent it. As Ranma watched, Ryouga picked himself up to a sitting position and began to use what scraps still clung to him to re-bandage himself, grumbling all the while.

"I still can't believe you just let him back..." he muttered, for what seemed like the thousandth time. "An old man like that, in the same house as Akane! Don't you have any concern for her at all?"

"Aw, shut up P-chan..." shot back Ranma, irately. "Like you have any right to complain about perverts getting their hooves on her."

Ryouga glowered at him in silence for a while. Then, with a tired sigh he hung his head. "Ranma..." he said at last. "I... I wasn't trying to get here, you know. Not this time. I didn't mean to involve the Tendos in this."

Ranma shrugged. "Yeah, well..." he said. "What's done is done. It ain't like we could hide all that mess out in the street now anyway. If those Dark Kingdom guys are that determined to follow your trail, they're going to be poking their noses around here one way or the other."

The lost boy seemed to consider this for a while, then nodded his head. "I suppose..." he agreed reluctantly. "But we _have_ to be careful, Ranma. This thing... it's much more serious than anything we've faced so far. I'm sure of it."

That drew a chuckle from Ranma. "Don't worry," the pigtailed boy said. "I already got an angle. First thing tomorrow, I'm gonna drop by the Nekohanten and pay the old ghoul a visit."

"Cologne?" asked the lost boy, surprised. "You're going to ask her for help?"

"Why not?" was Ranma's reply. "If anyone'd know how to handle something like this, it'd be her, right?"

Ryouga didn't reply immediately, but Ranma could tell that his brilliant idea had had a suitable impact on his rival. At length, the lost boy nodded. "You're right," he said. "If we had her help... as powerful as she is... that might do it. I think that might really do it."

"See?" said Ranma, grinning. "What'd I tell you? Just leave the thinking to me, and we'll send these guys packing in no time."

* * *

Outside the Tendo dojo, looking down from their perch on one of the nearby rooftops, stood the iron-masked figures of the two Inquisitors. The silence stretched on, until at last one of them spoke. "So. It seems we were right to let the situation play out and see what would come of it."

The other nodded, then turned to face the east. "It will be dawn soon," she said. "We must make our report."

As one, the two turned and moved away from the edge of the roof. One of the Inquisitors opened her hand, an eerie, blood-colored flame springing to life in her palm. The other knelt down in front of her partner, placed her hand on her own flickering shadow, and closed her eyes.

There was a delay of several seconds. Then, suddenly, her shadow changed—darkening until it no longer flickered, and warping into a silhouette that no longer matched that of the youma.

The Inquisitor opened her eyes. "Darkmistress," she said.

"What have you found?" The demand emanated up from the shadow, a low, distorted rasp. "Tell me."

The kneeling Inquisitor spoke. "We tracked the defector and her human ally as ordered, mistress. But one of the Hounds was killed in the process, and the Keeper grew... unstable. She tried to take revenge on her own."

"You stopped her, I trust? There are many questions I wish to ask this human. I will be _most displeased_ if I lose the opportunity."

"We... did not stop her immediately, mistress," answered the standing youma. "At the time, she was the only one who knew the targets' location—the only one who could use the Hounds to follow them. And we knew that the human was formidable as well. We decided to simply follow the Keeper to their location, let the Hounds wear the targets down, and then intervene only at the last moment."

"I see... So what went wrong?" came the reply from the shadow, the words full of threat.

"It was a trap," the kneeling youma stated bluntly. "The human had allies in reserve, and they were waiting for us. He led the Hounds right into their clutches while pretending to flee. By the time we reached the scene of the battle ourselves most of our forces had been killed, and the Keeper followed shortly after."

"Describe these... allies."

"We saw only one of them," said the standing youma. "Also human, but also with powers far beyond that of a normal man. He was at least the equal of the first in combat, if not greater. And there were others as well. My spells detected at least five more inside their lair."

There was a long pause, before the shadow spoke again. "This... changes matters," the voice said. "A single interloper is one thing, but an organized cabal of enemy sorcerers is not a threat we can afford to take lightly."

"What would you have us do, mistress?"

"We must look deeper into this. I will not show our hand any more than necessary—not while we are still ignorant of what we are dealing with. Watch them. And report everything they do to me. I will pursue my own investigations.

"And then, when the time is right, we will teach them what it truly means to trifle with the Dark Kingdom."


	5. Cross Purposes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Five: Cross Purposes

Tendo Nabiki was not, by nature, an early riser. For the most part, she found it a waste of energy. Success—in her opinion—didn't require waking at the crack of dawn to chase after opportunities with madcap enthusiasm. Rather, it was just a matter of sitting patiently back, and being ready to exploit the opportunities when they inevitably presented themselves.

So it was seldom that she bothered to get up any earlier than was required of her. Today, however, was different. Today, she was about to take the first step in exploiting the absolutely _golden_ opportunity that had just dropped itself into her lap the previous night. And that thought alone was enough to get her out of bed well before she usually woke.

Stifling a yawn, she made her way downstairs to the bathroom, where she washed up and prepared for the new day. School would be a pain, she knew, considering how little sleep she had gotten, but this would be well worth it. She splashed cold water in her face one last time, then ran her fingers through her short brown hair, as she gave herself an appraising glance in the mirror. With a satisfied nod, she turned to head back upstairs.

She didn't pause at the door to her younger sister's room, opening it and slipping through quietly. Both Akane and the youma were sound asleep—Akane in her bed, the youma on a sleeping mat beside it.

Neither of them woke as Nabiki entered. "Hey," she whispered, tiptoeing to Akane's side and gently shaking her shoulder. "Hey sis, wake up."

Akane stirred, mumbling a little, then lifted her head off the pillow and blinked groggily. "Oh, hello Nabiki," she said after a few seconds. "What is it?"

Nabiki bit her lip, trying to give the impression of nervous uncertainty. "I'm... sorry to wake you up like this..." she began, putting a slight tremor into her voice. "But I was downstairs just now and... I thought I heard something moving around!"

Now Akane was wide awake. "Moving around?" she echoed urgently. "Where? What did it sound like?"

"I... don't know!" responded Nabiki, shaking her head. "That's why I didn't want to tell Ranma—in case it turned out to only be my imagination. He'd probably make fun of me for being so jumpy. You know how _he_ is." Then Nabiki paused, adding more uncertainty to her voice. "But still... what if it _is_ one of the Dark Kingdom? And I'm not a martial artist like you are..."

Akane rolled out of bed, all tiredness replaced with an eager enthusiasm. "Don't worry about it!" she said reassuringly, as she headed for the door. "I'll check it out for you."

Nabiki made her face brighten. "Would you?" she asked. "Thanks so much, Akane. You're a lifesaver."

The youngest Tendo beamed, then darted out the doorway. Nabiki smiled fondly after her, then shut the door again and walked over to where Beneda still slept. "Rise and shine," Nabiki muttered, giving their guest a sharp nudge in the shoulder with her toe.

The youma woke with a start, jerking up into a sitting position and looking wildly around her. Nabiki saw panic and disorientation in her features—clearly, she did not recognize her surroundings.

After a few moments, however, the youma began to calm, memories of the past night apparently making their return. Beneda took a couple deep, slightly shaky breaths, then looked up. "Uh, hello..." she paused for a moment, frowning in thought. "...Nabiki?"

Nabiki smiled a small, cold smile. "Hello, Beneda," she replied. "It's _very_ nice to meet you."

Beneda's eyes narrowed, obviously wary, as Nabiki continued to talk. "I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed the story you told us last night," she said, walking over to the nearby chair and sitting back in it lazily. "Most of the people living here are pretty awful liars; it's refreshing to meet someone who's halfway good at it."

_That_ definitely drew a flinch from the youma, her shoulders tensing. "I don't know what you mean," she replied, in a level tone that almost concealed her agitation.

"Oh, I think that you do," was Nabiki's chiding response. "The others may not be as up on the stories coming out of the Juuban area lately, but your misunderstood-and-persecuted act doesn't hold water. _Your_ side is the one that's been making the attacks. Not ours."

"Senshi propaganda," responded the youma, trying hard to look calm. "All created to make us look like the villains."

Nabiki snorted. "Nice try."

A tense silence fell between them. Finally, Beneda broke it. "Let's pretend," she began, her eyes locked onto Nabiki's, "just for the sake of argument, that you were right. Do you plan on telling the others about it?"

The middle Tendo's eyes widened in mock-disbelief. "Me? Tell on you?" she exclaimed, as though she was affronted by the very suggestion. "Of course not! What would be the _profit_ in that?"

Beneda's eyes narrowed. "What kind of profit _did_ you have in mind?" she asked, her voice low.

Nabiki leaned back in her chair, tapping her finger to her chin thoughtfully. "Well now, that is an interesting question..." she mused. Of course, she already knew exactly what she was going to demand, but it was always fun to make a mark sweat. "You obviously don't have much to offer me in the way of human money... but maybe we could work something out."

Then it was time to go in for the kill. "You're going to owe me a favor, Beneda," she said. "Sometime soon, there may be something I need you to do for me. When that time comes—when I tell you what I want you to do—I hope you'll remember what will happen if you don't."

Beneda's eyebrows shot up a little—whatever she had been expecting, that hadn't been it. But before any further words could be exchanged, they heard the sound of rapid footsteps, and then the door slid open once more. "I searched all over downstairs," announced Akane, blissfully unaware of the tension that her appearance had just interrupted. "But I couldn't find anything. I think it might have been just your imagination after all."

Nabiki smiled apologetically at her sister. "Yeah, I guess it must have been," she admitted, as she rose from the chair and headed for the door. She paused partway there to give Akane a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "Thanks for checking it out, though. It's a big load off my mind."

Akane smiled back. "Don't mention it. It's better safe than sorry, after all."

With an assenting nod, Nabiki slipped through the doorway, closing it shut behind her. Only then, in the safety of the hallway beyond, did she release the real, almost giddy grin that she had been holding back.

She had never imagined that she would get an opportunity like this one. The youma herself was good for chump change at best—though Nabiki would, of course, milk as much of that as she could. Still, the _real_ score lay in the possibilities that the youma's presence opened.

And, while those more grandiose schemes might still take some time to arrange, there was still some smaller profit to be made in the here and now. Specifically, she wondered how much certain people would be willing to pay for information about the latest woman—loosely speaking—to enter the life of their local unintentional ladies' man...

Yes, she thought, as plan after plan began to run through her head. It was a good day to be Tendo Nabiki.

* * *

Akane was talking—and quite animatedly at that—but about what Beneda couldn't have said. The words barely registered with her, and to the extent that they did, they were quickly forgotten. Her attention was consumed by the threat that Nabiki posed, and how best to deal with it.

Killing her was the most obvious idea, but also a very risky one. It would need to be done in a way that no one would suspect her, and try though she might, Beneda couldn't think of a way to safely pull it off. All it would take would be a single scream, and everything could unravel so very easily.

And ignoring her was also out of the question. If the girl did follow through on her thinly veiled threat to expose the truth to the others... The youma flinched at the thought. No, she _couldn't_ let that happen.

Which left her with the third option. Playing along with the blackmail... for now, at least. Of course, it was unsettling having something like that hanging over her head. Nabiki obviously had some kind of plot in mind, something that involved her in some way. Still, Beneda was used to surviving as a pawn in a larger game—and this time, she had a game of her own that she was playing.

Her lip curled bitterly. Once she had engineered the deaths of the Senshi, once she had regained favor in the Dark Kingdom, _then_ let Nabiki see how well her little threats would protect her...

"Beneda?"

The youma's head jerked up, shaken out of her reverie by a hand on her shoulder. Akane was standing over her, an expression of concern on her face. "Are you all right?" she asked. "You look like something's really bothering you."

_I'm planning out how I'm going to kill your sister._ The thought flashed unbidden through Beneda's mind, and she looked away slightly. "It's... nothing," she replied. "I just have a lot to think about."

Akane nodded understandingly. "Well, don't let it worry you too much, okay? As long as you're with us, we'll keep you safe."

"Yes, I... I know. Thank you."

Anything Akane might have said in reply was lost, as the door to her room opened once more and Ranma himself leaned in. "Oh, hey, you're up!" he said. "That's great. I just gotta lead Ryouga to the bathroom so he can get washed up, and then we'll take you to see Cologne." Without waiting for a reply he shut the door again, and they heard his footsteps continuing on their way.

Beneda's features bent into a puzzled frown. She turned to Akane. "What did he mean by leading Ryouga to the bathroom?" she asked. "Isn't that just downstairs?"

Akane gave a nervous laugh. "Yes, well, you see... Ryouga has a little bit of a problem when it comes to things like that..."

* * *

Beneda followed the two boys—followed _Ranma_, she mentally corrected herself—through the streets of Nerima. Even now, she still found it hard to believe what Akane had told her. Surely, she kept telling herself, surely the girl had been exaggerating. Surely his sense of direction couldn't be _that_ bad.

And yet every time she thought it, it wasn't long before she noticed the bandanna-clad boy slowly, obliviously veering away from the course they were walking, forcing Ranma to drag him back by the collar. Beneda shuddered. And to think that she had been following his lead all last night!

She sighed, burying her face deeper into the collar of her long overcoat, and pulling the brim of her hat down further as well. The clothes were Soun's, loaned to her for the trip in hopes of not attracting unnecessary attention. She had to admit, it did cover her more "inhuman" features fairly well. No one had run away screaming yet, at least.

Then, up ahead, she saw a large sign reading "Nekohanten." So that was their destination, the restaurant owned by this Cologne. The youma licked her lips, feeling a little nervous at the sight.

On one hand, if even half of what Ranma and Ryouga had told her last night was true, then this old woman's help would be a phenomenal advantage in warding off the Dark Kingdom attacks. On the other hand, her encounter with Nabiki had been a grim reminder of how tenuous her position really was.

Still, all in all, she knew that this meeting was probably necessary. The two boys had amazing abilities, true. But pitted against the entire Dark Kingdom, she knew they would need all the help they could get if they were to survive long enough for her to accomplish her goals.

Ranma slid the restaurant door open, and the three of them ducked inside. There were a handful of humans sitting at the various tables—some of whom gave them quizzical looks, but none of whom said anything. They passed unhindered toward the main counter, where a long-haired human girl was running the cash register.

She looked up as the group approached, and in an instant, her eyes lit up. "Airen!" she gushed, vaulting over the counter and latching onto Ranma in a tight embrace while nuzzling him at the same time. "Is too, too long since you come visit Shampoo!"

Beneda raised her eyebrows at the open display of affection, while Ryouga furrowed his. "You two-timer!" he growled, giving the other boy a solid _thwack_ to the back of the head. "Playing around with other women at a time like this—it's just what I would have expected of you!"

Ranma let out a long-suffering groan. "Listen, Shampoo," he said. "We gotta talk to Cologne. It's real important."

Shampoo pouted for a moment, clearly disappointed that she had not been the purpose of the visit. But her smile returned quickly. "Great-grandmother in back, cooking," she informed them. "You come!"

She led the three of them out of the dining area, and back into a small kitchen, where two other humans stood. One, a male with long, dark hair and a white robe, was washing dishes in a sink in the far wall. Beneda paid him only passing notice, however. Her attention was focused on the woman working over the grill—the woman who could only be Cologne.

Despite her scant experience with humans, it was obvious even to her that Cologne was ancient. She was much, much smaller than any human Beneda had yet seen, with wrinkled skin that made it look as though she had shriveled in on herself. Long, silver-white hair flowed down her diminutive back to pool behind her as she cooked.

Slowly, she turned to face them. "Son-in-law..." she intoned, her voice impassive. "What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"Uh, hey granny," Ranma replied, sharing a slightly surprised glance with Ryouga. Apparently, the cool reception had not been expected. "We've... got a little bit of a problem."

"Do you, now?" asked the old woman, not sounding particularly surprised.

Ranma nodded. "Yeah," he said. "And, well, I guess it all starts here." He gestured to Beneda, who took a deep breath, steeling herself as much as possible. Then she lifted the hat from over her face and opened the overcoat, revealing her nature fully to them.

The reactions were varied. Shampoo's eyebrows rose a little, and she cocked her head curiously, looking back and forth between Ranma and the youma. The boy who had been washing dishes merely squinted at Beneda, then pulled a pair of extremely thick glasses out of his sleeves and put them on—at which point he jumped back a little in surprise.

Only Cologne was not visibly affected by the revelation. "I assume there is an explanation for this?" she asked, with deliberate calm.

"Um, yeah..." was Ranma's halting reply. "See, she's a 'youma' from something called the Dark Kingdom. Except that they kicked her out, and now they're trying to kill her. Ryouga ran into her a little while back, and now we took her in too."

"How very like you, son-in-law," was Cologne's reply, something unreadable in her voice. "Though I must say, making enemies of an entire _kingdom_ is a bit beyond even your usual standards."

"Well, that's kinda why we're here to see you," replied the pigtailed martial artist. "We figured we'd see if you could help us any."

"Perhaps," answered the old woman. She fixed her gaze on Beneda, who squirmed under it. "Tell me more... youma."

Beneda swallowed. "What do you want to know?" she asked, lamely.

"A clearer picture of the trouble that you bring to our doorstep _might_ be a good place to start."

The old woman's mild-spoken tone did little to reassure Beneda. "Right..." she said, trying to keep straight what she needed to say—and more importantly, what she couldn't. "Well... the Dark Kingdom is a society of youma, joined together to resist attacks made on us by humans. In particular, the power of our leaders, the Generals, is crucial to keeping us alive."

"But she stood up to one of them, when he wanted her to threaten a human kid," added Ryouga helpfully. "So now he's out to get her, and all his army is too."

"That does sound distressing..." replied Cologne, an eagle-like sharpness in her eyes. "Tell me, youma, what exactly can we expect from this General..." her voice trailed off expectantly after the title.

"...Jadeite," Beneda finished. "Like all the Generals, his personal power is immense. And what's more, he commands a fighting force of youma that numbers in the hundreds."

The appraisal hung in the air, reminding everyone of the odds that the situation presented. Finally Cologne spoke. "But these Generals... in terms of raw power, they are the most dangerous, correct? The deadliest single warriors?"

"Yes," Beneda nodded. "Well, except for _their_ leader, Queen Beryl. But she isn't likely to involve herself personally, so I don't think we have to worry about her."

"I see." Cologne's eyes narrowed. "Yes, this _is_ a fine mess you have gotten yourself into, son-in-law. A fine mess indeed... but I am willing to help you nonetheless."

Beneda let out a small shudder of relief, while Ranma's face lit up. "You will?" he asked. "That's great! Thanks, granny."

"Don't waste time thanking me," was the old woman's sharp reply. "Just listen. If you want to survive this, there are certain steps that must be taken. Fortunately, they will be mostly straightforward."

"Of course," said Ryouga. "What do you want us to do?"

"First," Cologne answered, taking her cane and thrusting it to point directly at Beneda. "Kill her."

Beneda's heart seemed to stop, even as the room burst into motion. Ryouga immediately leapt between Beneda and Cologne, fists raised in a fighting stance. In the same instant, moving even faster, the white-robed boy blurred across the room to stand between Shampoo and the rest of them, a sword suddenly in one hand and a trio of throwing knives in the other.

Ranma's reaction wasn't as noticeable, or as frantic. Yet, by the time the other two had reached their destinations, he had smoothly occupied a spot midway between all the players, where he could quickly react to moves that any of them made. "Hey, hold on here granny," he said, his voice hard. "What's the deal?"

Cologne had not moved through the entire exchange, her cane still pointing unwaveringly at Beneda. "Don't let her pretty story deceive you, son-in-law," the old woman said. "Her kind holds no affection for you—or any other human."

"That... that's not true!" protested Beneda, her mind still in shock from the sudden development. She tried to pull herself together as quickly as she could. "Humans aren't our enemies!"

"Humans are your _food_," shot back Cologne acidly. "You are abominations that devour life itself!"

Beneda gaped in astonishment, her eyes wide—but then quickly forced her features to a merely frightened expression. "No! You're wrong!"

"Am I?" asked the old woman. "Listen to me, both of you. I don't know what her game is, but she is lying to you. She is not who she says she is, and her Dark Kingdom is most _assuredly_ not what she claims it to be. If you trust her, you will be playing into the hands of those who would conquer humanity and turn them into cattle!"

Beneda's blood ran cold. This was the worst imaginable situation. _No!_ she thought desperately. _How does she know this much about us?_

Her frantic thoughts were interrupted as Cologne went on. "If you ever found my wisdom worth trusting, son-in-law, trust it now. You must kill her before she can turn on you." She paused, then spoke again. "After, of course, 'persuading' her to divulge any further information she might have neglected to tell us."

"No!" The angry shout was Ryouga's. "There's no way in hell we're going to let you do that!"

"Fool," Cologne snapped. "You have _no idea_ what these creatures are capable of—the threat they pose to us all!"

"Maybe we don't..." was Ranma's response. "But I'm still not going to kill somebody just 'cause _you_ think she oughta die. If you remember... I was in pretty much the same spot not too long ago."

The old woman's face hardened. "This is far more serious a matter than the Kiss of Death," she said warningly. "But one thing, at least, is indeed the same. It is most assuredly against Joketsuzoku law to allow a monster like this to live. I would prefer to do it without making an enemy of you son-in-law. I would prefer to do it by making you see reason. But one way or another, she must die."

* * *

At Cologne's words, Ranma clenched his hands into fists, taking a few steps back to stand closer to Ryouga in a more defensive position. Silence choked the air, broken only by the soft murmur of the restaurant's breakfast crowd, drifting in from the adjacent room. It was unbearably loud in Ranma's ears.

The young fighter licked his lips, watching Cologne carefully. She hadn't moved an inch since her dire pronouncement. The ancient master merely gazed back at him, eyes cold and hard, and Ranma felt a small knot of nervousness settle in his stomach. This time, he knew, would not be like their previous fight at the beach.

This time, Cologne was _deadly_ serious.

"Great-grandmother?"

The hesitant voice caused both Ranma and Cologne to glance quickly over to where Shampoo stood behind Mousse. The pigtailed boy swore under his breath. In his concern over facing the old woman, he had almost forgotten the younger warriors—a potentially fatal mistake. They were both tense, and looked ready to engage in battle at any moment. But on which side would they fall?

Ranma's eyes flicked back and forth between Cologne and the other two. He saw little chance that Mousse would side with him in such a situation, but Shampoo had done so before, and might again. Still, Ranma didn't know how much it would help; between the two Joketsuzoku, Mousse was by far the better fighter.

But then Mousse looked over his shoulder at Shampoo, and Ranma realized that the nearsighted boy was in an uncertain position as well. Normally, Mousse wouldn't have hesitated to go after Ranma... but if Shampoo entered the fray, his actions would be much harder to predict. Would he aid Shampoo? Try to take out Ranma before she got hurt? Or just try to keep her out of danger altogether?

Ranma looked back to Cologne, and knew that she was running through those same calculations herself. For second after agonizing second the five warriors stood there, eyes shifting back and forth amongst themselves. Each trying to determine who would be on whose side. Each trying to determine who would make the first move. The air was crackling with suppressed violence, and Ranma knew that the whole situation was a powder keg just waiting for the match to make it explode.

This was going to be messy.

"Beneda," he muttered quietly out of the corner of his mouth, without turning away from the other combatants.

"Yes?" The voice that replied sounded very small and scared.

"When I say 'go,'" Ranma told her, "I want you to run back to the dojo. As fast as you can."

Hearing him say that, Cologne's eyes flashed angrily. And without any further words, she began to call up her battle aura.

It was one of the more subtly frightening things Ranma had ever seen. He could sense the immense power raging there, power worthy of fear in and of itself. But unlike the battle auras of most other marital artists, Cologne's didn't pour out in mammoth waves of heat. It _seethed_ around her, controlled and contained to a degree that seemed impossible for its size. Only the tiniest amount was released visibly, shrouding her body with thin, writhing tendrils of ki.

The ancient master was at full battle readiness. And even Ranma couldn't help but wonder if they had any chance of stopping her—no matter which side Mousse and Shampoo chose.

Suddenly, Cologne's eyes darted away from Ranma, glancing for just the briefest moment toward the outside wall. The pigtailed fighter blinked. What had _that_ been?

The silent standoff continued for a few more tense seconds. Then, without any warning, Cologne's battle aura subsided, and she returned to her normal state.

Ranma let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. He couldn't trust that this wasn't some kind of trap, of course—but then again, it was doubtful that Cologne would feel the need for such traps in the first place.

In any case, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He gestured to Ryouga and Beneda, and step by step, the three of them backed warily away.

As they reached the doorway to the kitchen, Cologne finally spoke up. "This isn't over, son-in-law."

"You can say that again," Ranma shot back, as he exited the room. Then under his breath: "And I ain't your son-in-law either, old ghoul..."

* * *

Outside the Nekohanten, a small, almost unnoticeable distortion in the air, like a heat shimmer, held its position on the roof of a nearby building.

Concealed within the cloaking magic, the blue-eyed Inquisitor peered down at the restaurant. She considered moving closer to try and get a look inside, but decided against it. No sense in taking unnecessary risks. Keeping track of their movements was her task right now.

Still she wondered what they were doing in there. It could just be that they were eating—she knew humans had to do that a few times every day—but then why had they brought their new pet youma along with them? No, there was something else going on, she was certain of it.

It was then that the three figures in question reemerged from the building. She could read a tension in their movements that hadn't been there when they had entered, and the two humans were now grouped protectively around the traitor. Interesting.

The iron-masked youma crept across the rooftops after them, moving slowly to minimize the distortions in her cloaking field. Fortunately, her quarry were not moving with undue speed either. She followed them all the way back to their base, halting on a rooftop about a block away. Then she dropped her spell. "Any activity?" she asked the empty air.

At her words, her partner shimmered into visibility as well. "None," was the green-eyed Inquisitor's answer. "The rest of them have kept holed up in there. Where did your three go?"

"To a restaurant called the Nekohanten," replied her comrade. "They only stayed there for a few minutes, then went back. Still, I'm sure they were doing something significant in there."

"More allies?"

"It's possible. Perhaps they brought the traitor there to introduce her to the rest of their organization."

The green-eyed Inquisitor let out a long hiss of breath. "I don't like this," she said darkly. "There were already too many things we didn't know about these new players. We need to figure out what's going on here, and quickly."

Her partner nodded. "Well, we have one new piece of information, at least. We should make a report to the Darkmistress, and inform her about this 'Nekohanten' place."

"Actually," came a dry voice from behind them. "I would very much prefer it if you didn't."

The two Inquisitors whirled as one, looking incredulously for the speaker. And there she was, perched on the edge of the roof: a tiny old human woman, leaning on an old gnarled cane. "Wha—? Who are you?" demanded the green-eyed youma.

A small, humorless smile flitted across the old crone's face, and she continued to talk as though the youma hadn't interrupted. "Normally, of course, I wouldn't turn down free publicity for my restaurant. But in this case I think it would attract a very undesirable sort of crowd... so I must ask for your permanent silence in the matter."

That was all the answer the two Inquisitors needed. The green-eyed youma took a deep breath, and a noxious-looking miasma began to seep from underneath her dark robes. Soon, clouds of poison were swirling around her, flowing to her command.

At the same time, the blue-eyed youma flexed her fingers—which twisted into drill-like shapes. Then she extended her fingers once more, at which they began to spin furiously, filling the air with their high-pitched whine.

The human regarded their display of power placidly, her only reaction a raised eyebrow.

And then she moved, faster than they could possibly react. A tightly focused burst of energy shot from the tip of her cane, catching the green-eyed youma square in the chest. In the blink of an eye, her entire body exploded spectacularly, scattering youma dust everywhere and dispersing the poison to the winds.

The remaining Inquisitor gaped, staring in horror at the small scorch mark on the roof that was all that remained of her partner. Then she leaped away, desperately trying to put some distance between herself and the monster that was after her.

But even as she tried to escape, a swarm of ropes and chains wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She felt herself being wrenched backward through the air—and straight into a leg sweep. Her world spun crazily for a moment, and then she slammed into the roof at the feet of a white-robed human.

No sooner had she landed than he had a dagger pressed against her throat. "Not one move," he told her. "Or you die."

Even as he spoke, the old woman was walking over to join him. "Now then," she said matter-of-factly. "I have a few questions I'd like to ask you. First: what were the two of you doing here? Surveillance only? Or something more?"

The youma looked up defiantly from behind her mask at her captors, saying nothing. Her tongue was otherwise occupied, pressing against certain of her teeth in a very specific pattern.

After a few moments of silence, the old woman sighed. "I assure you, I have _much_ less pleasant ways of extracting this information, if you are determined to be stubborn."

To that, the youma responded with a harsh laugh. "I am an Inquisitor of the Black Section!" she informed the human proudly. "No matter how powerful you are, don't think that we can be trifled with like this!"

And then, the arming sequence completed, she clamped her teeth together as hard as she could.

* * *

Mousse felt the air burst from his lungs as Cologne slammed her tiny body into his own. The impact sent them both flying off the rooftop at an incredible velocity. As they arced through the air, he heard a dull _thump_, and suddenly the rooftop they had just been standing on exploded into a raging inferno of eerie purple fire.

Seconds later they landed on the street below. Mousse tumbled end over end, still recovering from the sudden turn of events. Cologne, of course, landed with perfect poise.

For a few moments, they simply looked up in silence at the unnatural blaze. Mousse wondered what the strange flames would actually have done if they had caught him... then decided that he probably didn't want to know.

Cologne broke the spell with an irritated sigh. "A suicide bomb. And I didn't think to account for it until it was too late. I must be getting old..."

The hidden weapons master glanced over at Cologne. "Well, we did learn one thing, at least," he offered. "It sounded as though the youma we saw today really is being hunted by the rest of her kind."

The old woman's lip twisted in annoyance. "Just because she happens to have fallen out of favor with her masters doesn't make her any less a youma. She's up to something. I could see it in her eyes even as she lied to us."

Mousse shrugged. It didn't matter much to him either way. He glanced back up at the rooftop, where the flames were already beginning to die down. Cologne similarly appeared to be lost in thought.

At length, she spoke again. "If I understand correctly... your actions in the recent incident with Pantyhose Taro—or at least, son-in-law's _interpretation_ of those actions—has earned you some amount of trust with him. I think it is time that trust was spent."

Mousse blinked, taken off-guard by the sudden change in subject. "What do you mean?"

"You will go to the Tendo dojo," explained Cologne. "You will tell them that the youma's plea has touched you. You will tell them that you have seen past my close-minded prejudices. And you will offer your help to them in defending against the Dark Kingdom attacks."

The hidden weapons master drew himself up, affronted. "Me? Help fight off Saotome's enemies?" he demanded. "That's ridiculous! There is no way that I will agree to—"

Cologne's cane crashed into his head, driving his face into the pavement. Nor did she stop there, as she usually did, but instead flipped him back over and jammed the point into his throat, until he could barely breathe.

"Idiot!" she hissed into his ear. "I would have thought even _you_ could see the importance of this! I do not care if you aid son-in-law or not. Indeed! Feel free to pursue your usual plots against him. I expect they will meet with all the success that they usually do. But above all else, _that youma must be watched._"

"I... thought..." Mousse managed to choke out. "I thought... you were just... going to kill her?"

Cologne's expression darkened. "Not quite yet. These other youma are by far the greater threat, and openly provoking son-in-law will only weaken us all. His little stray must be _exposed_ before she can be killed."

Now Mousse could see where she was headed. "So that's... why you need... someone in the Tendo dojo."

"Yes," the old woman nodded. "Someone who will not be swayed by anything son-in-law might say in the matter."

With that, she removed the cane from Mousse's neck. The hidden weapons master sat up, rubbing his throat while glaring at her. Finally, though, he nodded. "All right," he rasped. "I'll do it."

"Good," was Cologne's curt reply. "Watch her as closely as you can, and once you've proved her true nature, kill her."

Mousse waved the instructions off, then turned and began to walk toward the dojo. He didn't need her nagging; he knew his part in this. This youma was a monster, and the monster would be dealt with.

And if nothing else, it was another chance to arrange Saotome's long-overdue demise. He snorted, recalling Cologne's disdain for his ability to accomplish it. Serve the old mummy right if he _did_ manage to get rid of her precious "son-in-law" along the way.

* * *

Beneda kept her eyes lowered to the floor as she walked through the Tendo home. Ranma and Ryouga flanked her on either side, the latter glaring at the former.

It was Ryouga who finally broke the silence. "Well, _that_ went well!" he burst out. "What a wonderful idea! Get Cologne to help us! Typical Saotome brilliance!"

"Watch it, pig-boy," Ranma shot back through gritted teeth. "You thought it was a pretty good idea yourself last night." Ryouga could think of no reply to that, and had to settle for clenching his fists in impotent rage at just how much worse their situation had become.

For her part, Beneda could barely think at all, her mind numb and filled with static. _Another_ enemy out to kill her? As though the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi weren't _enough?_ It just wasn't fair!

"Look, just nobody panic!" the pigtailed boy said, as the three of them reached the the dojo proper. "This ain't the end of the world. I've handled Cologne before, and I'll do it again!" However, even he didn't look particularly convinced by what he was saying—to say nothing of the other two.

Ryouga made no reply, instead sitting heavily down on the dojo floor, still angry. Ranma remained standing, a brooding frown on his face.

For a while they kept silent, until Ranma glanced up and spoke. "Hey, Beneda..." he said casually. "Could you do me a favor? With all this going on... I think I'm just gonna call in sick from school today so I can stay here. Do you think you could find my pop and have him arrange it?"

Beneda forced herself to smile. "Of course! I'll go find him right now." She promptly exited the dojo, closed the door behind her, and walked down the hallway to the Tendo's main family room.

Upon reaching it, she then proceeded to stop, count to ten, and then creep quietly back to stand behind the closed door, listening carefully. Ranma's "casual" request had set off all kinds of warning bells in her head—and she needed to know what it was he didn't want her to hear.

"...like it any more than you do!" were the first words that she was able to make out. It was Ranma speaking, and it seemed that the two boys were having a very heated discussion. "But we can't just ignore what she said!"

Cold dread struck Beneda afresh. It was just what she had feared. They were talking about the old woman's warning. Helplessly, the youma cursed Cologne, and cursed the old woman's inexplicable knowledge, which was now threatening to turn her last hope against her.

Ryouga, however, did not sound convinced. "Why _can't_ we just ignore it?" shot back the directionally-impaired boy. "What does any of it matter? She doesn't know Beneda!" A bit of hope surged back into the youma at the words.

"Well, no, she doesn't..." replied Ranma. "But she might know about this Dark Kingdom. And if they actually are a bunch of life-eating monsters out to take over the world..." His voice trailed off.

"I..." Ryouga hesitated, a strange reluctance in his voice. "I don't know anything about the Dark Kingdom besides what Beneda told me. I don't see how Cologne would know it either. But..." He took a deep breath. "She... was right about the 'eating life' part." Beneda froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"What do you mean?" Ranma asked—levelly, but there was a tightness in his voice.

"It... was before we came here, before we were attacked by those dog creatures. I was carrying her because of her injuries, and I noticed that she was... draining off some of my ki into herself." The words detonated inside Beneda with bomb-like force. _He... knew?_ she thought, disbelieving. _He knew the whole time?_

"And you didn't think to mention this to us?" demanded Ranma.

"I forgot about it, all right!" shouted Ryouga angrily. "_You_ try remembering something like that after you've spent the night fighting for your life against a whole pack of crazy monsters!" He made an exasperated noise. "See, Cologne's making it all sound so much worse than it actually is! So she took some of my ki. I'm still perfectly fine! It didn't even tire me that much!"

"But she didn't tell you about it."

"She... she was probably afraid that I wouldn't help her if I knew," answered Ryouga. "She's _alone_, Ranma. Right now, we're probably the only people in the whole damn world that are on her side. And... when you're in a place like that, sometimes you get desperate enough to lie about who you really are."

Ranma paused for a moment, digesting this. "And the Dark Kingdom?"

"What difference does it make? They want to kill her! She's not on their side anymore, whatever they're trying to do. I don't care what Cologne thinks about what the 'Dark Kingdom' is or what 'youma' are. I care about who _Beneda_ is. And to me..." he hesitated, then went on with increased conviction. "To me, she's been a friend. And if anyone wants to hurt her, they're going to have to go through me first."

In the hallway outside, Beneda clenched her eyes tight. _Stupid human..._ she thought weakly. _Stupid, idiot humans. Why do you do things like this? Why can't you see that you'll just end up getting used?_

And then Ranma was speaking again. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. Then his tone took on a more joking note. "Besides, I can't just let you get your ass kicked by the Dark Kingdom 'cause you didn't have my help, now can I?"

Ryouga's reply was an angry growl, and Beneda shakily decided that she had heard enough. She still had to find Ranma's father, after all. She turned to head back down the hall—

—and came face to face with the glasses-wearing boy from the Nekohanten.

A small scream of shock and fear burst from her lips before she could stop it. Instantly there was a scrambling from inside the dojo, and less than a second later the door was flung open. Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, and she was dragged backward, Ranma and Ryouga interposing themselves between her and the threat. "Mousse..." growled Ryouga. "What are you doing here?"

Mousse's eyes settled on each of them in turn, and then he slowly lifted his hands in a gesture of non-violence. "I'm not here to fight," he said.

"Then why are you here?" challenged Ranma. "We already heard the Joketsuzoku line today on what we're doing."

The white-robed boy shook his head. "You should know by now that Cologne and I don't see eye to eye on everything, Saotome. And she's far over the line this time. Your youma has done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment... and so, as a member of the Joketsuzoku who is not blinded by tradition, I felt I should offer my help, to make amends."

Ranma and Ryouga glanced at each other, uncertainly. Mousse pressed on. "You need my help; you're vastly outnumbered as it is. It's your choice, but I hope that you'll allow me to help you... just as I helped you against Pantyhose Taro."

And that seemed to decide them. "All right," Ranma said, relaxing his fighting stance. "Sure, you're in. Thanks, man."

Mousse smiled, and made a slight bow. "It's my pleasure."

The situation now mostly defused, Mousse made his way past them and into the dojo proper, followed by Ryouga. Thinking as quickly as she could, Beneda struggled to come up with an excuse for why she had been standing there, before anyone could ask her about it. "Um... I'm sorry, Ranma..." she said at last, seizing on the only one she could think of. "I... couldn't find your father. That's why I was coming back—to let you know."

Ranma laughed, sounding a little nervous himself. "Oh, yeah..." he said. "Now that you mention it... I think I did notice on the way in that he was in his panda form. Heh heh, stupid thing to forget, isn't it? You probably would have been looking for him for a long time..."

Beneda frowned at that, puzzled. _Panda form?_ she thought. _What's that supposed to mean?_

But Ranma was pressing on. "Anyway, don't worry about it. I'll go get some hot water and straighten it out with the old man myself." And with that he bounded away, leaving a thoroughly confused Beneda in his wake.

* * *

Cologne sat, alone, in the now-silent Nekohanten.

She had closed the restaurant immediately upon her return, without explanation to her customers. Mousse was off deceiving the inhabitants of the Tendo dojo, and Shampoo had been sent off on another errand—more a pretext than anything else. The ancient master had desired solitude.

_To think that something like this is actually coming to pass..._ she thought, staring out across the empty chairs and tables. _To think that it is coming to pass in our days..._

It was not so much for her own sake that she had those thoughts. She had lived a long life, perhaps too long, and she was ready to face whatever it was fate had in store for her. But her great-granddaughter, her son-in-law, and even that useless Mousse—those children had so much still ahead of them, so much potential. Too much, for it to be wasted in what she feared was coming.

_The Dark Kingdom..._ It still seemed unreal, in a way. But the signs were unmistakable. As was her next course of action.

She reached over to pick up the phone, and began to dial the number that would connect her to the single working telephone in the Joketsuzoku village. She only hoped that the call would go through—occasionally, downed lines made such communication impossible, and that was something they could not afford now.

She let out a silent breath of relief as she heard the ringing begin. After that, it was only a matter of waiting, until at last it was picked up on the other end. "Hello?" said an aged voice, filled with curiosity. Phone calls were not common things there, after all.

"Liu Fa..." Cologne said. Her fellow elder's voice was a welcome sound to her ears.

"Ah, Ke Lun!" was the reply. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"No pleasure," Cologne said frankly. "Rather, evil tidings. I need you to send every able-bodied warrior you can spare over here. As quickly as you can."

"Really..." A good deal of the joy had drained from Loofah's voice, replaced by grim focus. "Arranging such a feat may require... bending a few of the Chinese government's precious laws."

"Break them flat-out if you have to," returned Cologne. "We can call in some of our bigger favors to clean things up afterward." _If there is an "afterward,"_ Cologne added silently.

"You demand much, Ke Lun."

A humorless smile crossed Cologne's face. "Oh, I haven't even started yet. When you send them... there is a certain artifact I need you to send as well."

"Well. That, at least, should pose little problem."

"You haven't heard which artifact."

Puzzlement entered Loofah's voice. "What does it matter? Whichever one you wanted, such things are your unquestioned area of expertise. The only artifact _you_ couldn't requisition would be..."

Loofah's voice trailed off, and Cologne let the pregnant silence speak for her. Finally, the other woman spoke. "By all the ancestors, Ke Lun, have you lost your _mind_?"

"If that were all this was, it would be a mercy," was Cologne's answer. "Unfortunately, I am quite sane."

"But it's been decades since we've even had a reason to _consult_ it—and now you want to transport it away from the village? To _Japan_?"

"It is necessary," insisted Cologne. "We will have need of its guidance, and we cannot trust this line to relay our questions. It must be brought here."

"_Why?_" Loofah demanded. "Why is all this necessary?"

Cologne took a deep breath. "Because the Seal it spoke of... has failed."

Dead silence filled the line. "There... must be some mistake," Loofah said at last.

"No mistake," replied Cologne. "I have this very day spoken with a creature calling itself a 'youma' about its service to the 'Dark Kingdom.'"

Cologne could practically hear the gears turning in her fellow elder's head, as she translated those names from the Chinese into a much, much older language that only a very few alive knew. "That's not proof," Loofah finally protested. "It could be a coincidence. 'Dark Kingdom' is a generic enough name..."

"I sensed her aura myself," Cologne continued, relentlessly. "It was inverted, an anti-life aura, _exactly_ as described."

"There... could be other creatures with auras like that in existence," said Loofah, although she didn't sound nearly as certain of herself now. "It's not unthinkable."

Cologne did not reply to the assertion, but simply moved in for the deathblow. "When I questioned her, I managed to draw out the names of her leaders," she said quietly. "She identified them as a 'General Jadeite'... and a 'Queen Beryl.'"

"By the ancestors..." Loofah breathed. "And if them, then Zoisite... Nephrite... Kunzite... and..."

Her voice trailed off. Both women knew the name left unspoken. It was Cologne who finally said it. "Metallia."

"You'll have your warriors," said Loofah, her voice slightly unsteady. "All we can spare, and more. Expect them soon."

"My thanks," replied Cologne simply.

"Is there anything else you need?" pressed the other elder. "Anything else that we can bring that would be of assistance?"

Cologne opened her mouth to say "no"—then hesitated, her thoughts turning to the part of this problem that lay closer to home. Turning to Ranma, and his brave, headstrong defiance, determined to risk his life for that miserable monster.

It would all fall apart soon enough—of that she was certain. The youma's true colors would be revealed, and her son-in-law's noble intentions would be crushed beneath the cold, brutal weight of reality. There was really nothing more to it than that.

But still, she could not help thinking back to the fire she had seen in his eyes that morning—the same fire that had driven him to fight desperately against her on the beach, even completely outmatched, with all the odds against him.

And she wondered if anything involving that boy could really end so simply.

"Ke Lun?"

Cologne didn't answer, continuing to brood as she turned the events of the morning over and over again through her mind. Thinking of her son-in-law—the dear young idiot. Thinking of what might happen in the coming days. Thinking of what might be required.

_It is most assuredly against Joketsuzoku law to allow a monster like this to live._

"Ke Lun? Are you still there?"

Cologne sighed, and made a decision. "I'm still here," she said. "And... yes. I don't for a moment believe that I will actually need to use it, but... there is something else that I would like you to bring. Just in case."


	6. Interesting Times

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Six: Interesting Times

Beneda watched, a little apprehensive in spite of herself, as the three boys squared off.

According to them, this was "just a quick little sparring match." A way to keep up their skills, as well as blow off some steam after the disastrous meeting with Cologne earlier that day. Beneda, however, had seen the competitive gleams that had entered each of their eyes as soon as Ranma had proposed the idea... and somehow she suspected that this match would be neither quick nor little.

Mousse had taken the high ground, standing on a corner of the Tendo home's roof. His hands were tucked deep within his sleeves, and he glared down at his opponents through his thick glasses.

Beneath him, and off to the side, Ryouga stood by the edge of the pond in the yard's center. His fists were clenched at his sides, and he watched the other two warily, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Between the two was Ranma, showing neither of their intensity. His stance was light and loose, his eyes drifting back and forth easily. And for a moment, everything hung there, silent and still.

Then, without warning, Mousse's hands exploded from his sleeves, sending a shower of ropes and chains toward both his foes. Ranma dodged nimbly between them, while Ryouga simply let them wind around his body—then grabbed hold of them and wrenched with all his might. Mousse was yanked unceremoniously from his perch, pulled off the roof into thin air.

Ryouga took a running leap, trying to intercept the nearsighted boy as he fell. But before he could reach his target, Ranma flew at him from the side with a jump kick of his own. Ryouga tried to twist and deflect it, but failed. The impact knocked him into the side of the house, ricocheting off it to the ground. He was up again almost immediately.

Mousse, meanwhile, was still sailing through the air—at Ranma now. Somehow, the white-robed boy pulled a huge wooden club from his sleeves, and used his momentum to swing it at his foe with his right arm. Ranma replied by catching that arm at the wrist, pulling the other boy in tight, and swinging him into a mid-air shoulder throw that hurled him straight at the ground.

It was only as Mousse fell—smirking—that Ranma realized what his opponent's _left_ hand had been doing during the throw. One of Mousse's chains was now wrapped around Ranma's leg, and even as Mousse hit the ground, he used it to fling Ranma through the air.

Directly toward Ryouga. Not being one to pass up such a perfect shot, the directionally-challenged boy slammed a roundhouse kick into Ranma from the side. He was knocked tumbling away, finally skidding to a stop by the pond. He, too, quickly hopped back to his feet—although with a tiny grimace. Ryouga was evidently playing a little rougher than Ranma, although even Beneda could tell that neither boy was striking with full force.

The battle was swiftly rejoined, the three of them charging at each other. They met in the middle of the yard, clashing in a furious exchange of techniques—attacking, counterattacking, jumping and ducking. Beneda marveled quietly at the display, at the speed, skill and precision that they demonstrated. Truly, she had never even imagined humans to be capable of anything like this.

It was several minutes before the rapid-fire stalemate was broken. The critical moment came when Mousse managed to crouch underneath one of Ryouga's punches, and counter with an upward kick that caught the lost boy in the chest. The blow sent him flying backward through the air, but Ryouga didn't seem particularly hurt by the attack, twisting his body to land on his feet...

...and then his eyes widened, his face taking on an expression of pure horror. Beneda couldn't understand why, though. He didn't seem to be in any particular danger—unless, of course, one counted the mild inconvenience of getting wet in the pond that his trajectory was now carrying him toward...

Ryouga continued to fall—but then, just before he hit the water, Ranma put on an incredible burst of speed. He shot through the air at Ryouga, driving a kick into the other boy's chest with far greater force than he had been using previously. Ryouga was hurled away, his body skimming so closely along the pond's surface that the air displacement left a rippling wake behind him. But he did not fall in, the force of the kick carrying him clear.

The same, unfortunately, could not be said of Ranma. The pigtailed boy ended up tumbling into the water instead, disappearing from sight in a large splash. She resurfaced moments later, of course, slogging her way back to shore while muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

...wait, _what?_

Beneda blinked disbelievingly, leaning closer in an attempt to make sense out of what she was seeing. She was reasonably certain that when Ranma had gone _into_ the water, he had been noticeably taller, noticeably more broad-shouldered, and notably less... female.

Even as Ranma trudged back out of the pond, Mousse began to hurl a multitude of diverse and bizarre projectiles at... him? Her? Beneda watched, her jaw slightly agape, trying to piece together what had just happened.

Her wonderings were interrupted as Ryouga plopped himself down beside her. He looked a bit shaken, and no longer in the mood for sparring. Seeing the opportunity to make some sense out of the situation, she turned to him. "Uh, Ryouga?" she began hesitantly. "Did something just... happen to Ranma?"

Ryouga looked quizzically at her, then over at Ranma, then nodded in realization. "Oh, that," he said. "That's his Jusenkyo curse."

"Jusenkyo... curse?" It didn't clarify much, but at least she knew she wasn't seeing things.

"Yes," replied Ryouga darkly. "You see, there's a valley somewhere in China, a terrible place filled with many different pools..."

Beneda listened as Ryouga described the peculiar consequences of taking a dip in one of those pools. It was fascinating, really. She had never before heard of a spell that used water _temperature_ as its trigger. "Certainly a strange type of curse..." she murmured, half to herself.

Ryouga laughed, very nervously. "Y- yeah, it is pretty freakish, isn't it?" he offered, with a patently fake smile. "Just makes me glad that I don't have one myself. At all."

Beneda threw him a brief, sidelong glance, recalling his horror when he had been about to fall into the water—as well as his utter embarrassment the night before when talking about what happened to him when caught in the rain. "Of course," she said dryly. "Who would _ever_ suspect you were hiding something like that?"

She turned back to the fight—now reduced to a one-on-one. Mousse was running along the outer wall of the compound now, while hurling weapons at Ranma, who was paralleling his course from the ground below. The sight reminded her of something else that she had been worrying about. "Ryouga?" she asked, trying to sound casual. "Just how good a fighter is Mousse anyway?"

"Oh, he's good," replied Ryouga, a bit grudgingly. "One of the better fighters I've met, actually. Not quite as good as Ranma or me, but he's close." He turned to look at Beneda. "He's definitely a strong addition to our chances."

The intent of Ryouga's comment was obviously to be reassuring... but the effect was anything but. Because, at the moment, it wasn't Mousse's abilities in battle against her _foes_ that worried her.

She didn't trust the nearsighted boy. Didn't trust him one bit. The more she thought about his story, and the more she watched his actions, the less she believed that he had come to them for the reasons he'd claimed. More than once, she had noticed him watching her surreptitiously. And doing so with a measuring look in his eyes that had sent chills down her spine.

Mousse was down on the ground now, backpedaling across the yard while hurling even more weapons. Some of them, Beneda noted, looked a bit deadly for a simple sparring match—knives, spears and other assorted blades. But Ranma weaved through them all.

Angrily, Mousse whipped out yet another weapon—a battle axe attached to the end of one of his chains—and began to whirl it around himself in a twisting, criss-crossing, spherical pattern. Ryouga's eyebrows went up a bit. "Huh, that's a new one."

Beneda swallowed. "Ranma... does look like he's having a bit of trouble..." she offered hesitantly.

Ryouga shook his head. "Not for long," he replied. "That's the thing about Mousse. At range, he probably is the best of us three. As long as he can _keep_ you there, you're in trouble—especially Ranma, since his own reach is shorter when he's a girl. Still, any second now Ranma's going to find his opening and—_there._" Even as Ryouga spoke, the pigtailed fighter darted in through Mousse's rain of attacks, slammed her shoulder into the boy to knock him off balance, then followed that with two quick jabs and a wicked cross that sent Mousse to the ground.

Mousse rolled away, evidently not giving up yet, but Ryouga turned back to Beneda, no longer paying the match much attention. "See, just like I was saying," he told her. "He's strong at a distance... but if we can get close, we can usually take him."

Beneda nodded, only half hearing him. Although Ryouga seemed to have lost interest, she herself was still entranced by the fight. Even with Ranma right on top of him, Mousse was still putting up a fierce struggle, whipping out weapons left and right, exchanging blindingly-fast volleys of strikes, even as he was being steadily overwhelmed.

And then, without any warning, the combat came to a sudden halt.

One moment Mousse and Ranma were going at it with ferocious abandon; the next they had leapt apart, each taking a stance as they searched their surroundings. Ryouga, too, had leapt to his feet, his calm expression replaced by a dangerous frown.

Fear began to sink its claws into Beneda. "What is it?" she whispered, looking anxiously over at Ryouga.

"Danger," he replied grimly. "Somewhere nearby. Except... it doesn't feel like another youma..."

His words were cut off as a colorfully clad figure shot into view from over the roof of the Tendo house and hurtled toward them.

* * *

The Inquisitor strode toward the imposing iron gates, her black robes billowing around her. She was determined not to let her anxiety show in her gait, although she was not sure if she was completely successful.

The gates creaked open as she drew near, and she went through them without hesitation. Beyond them lay a long, narrow stone bridge, stretching off into the distance. And beyond that lay her destination.

The youma swallowed. The black walls and spires of the Devil's Keep rose upward, towering over her tiny form. The structure was a testament to the Black Section's power, and the nerve center of all its operations. Within those walls, she knew, were countless prison cells, torture chambers, and laboratories where the _truly_ unlucky prisoners made their contributions to Dark Kingdom science.

Fervently, she hoped that she would not become a guest in one of those accommodations herself. The Darkmistress was legendary for her mercurial moods... and the news the Inquisitor was bringing was not particularly good.

She continued to walk. Not another being was in sight as she made her way steadily toward her goal. Soon she stood before it, another gate barring her way. This one, too, opened before her, allowing her into the Keep itself.

From there, she followed one of the twisted, circuitous routes that led through the depths of the fortress—reaching, at last, the private chambers of the Darkmistress herself. Even from where she was, she could feel the terrible power of the youma inside, as though death itself were hanging in the air. Trying her best to compose herself, the Inquisitor reached out and knocked twice.

There were a few tense moments of silence. Finally, a low, grating voice came from inside. "Enter."

Swallowing hard, the Inquisitor obeyed. She opened the door and stepped inside.

She had been in the Darkmistress's chambers only once before, but the view had not changed since then. The lighting was minimal almost to the point of nonexistence, consisting only of a few small candles placed seemingly at random on the room's floor. In their dim, flickering glow, she could just barely discern the outline of the figure standing at the opposite end of the room.

Immediately, the Inquisitor dropped to her knees, bowing her face to the ground in abject subservience. "My mistress," she said. "I come bearing the latest developments in the matter of the rogue youma and her protectors."

At first, the only reply was silence, followed by the sound of footsteps drawing nearer. The Inquisitor made sure not to look up, trying hard not to lose her composure. Every step brought more of that hideous presence to bear on her. By the time the pair of ebony boots appeared in her vision she was almost gasping for breath, the feeling of decay gnawing at her mind. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the Darkmistress spoke again. "Well? What have we learned?"

"Disturbing news, mistress," the kneeling youma managed to croak out. "They appear even more dangerous than we had feared."

"Explain."

"We... we began by looking for information on the first attacker," the Inquisitor said. "Our agents were able to identify him in the humans' records as Hibiki Ryouga."

"He was not using disguise magic?"

"None that we could detect, mistress. Unfortunately, the humans themselves had little information about him. He seems to have attended one of their schools... but extremely sporadically, with long, unexplained absences. In fact, 'Hibiki Ryouga' seems to have spent most of his life off the humans' grid entirely—barely interacting with their society at all."

The Darkmistress growled. "So it is probable that all we've found is a cover identity, created to disguise who he _really_ is."

"Yes, and there's more," replied the Inquisitor. "We also investigated his listed address, the Hibiki family home. Supposedly, the _sole_ Hibiki family home." She shook her head. "It was empty. According to our scans no one had been there in months, and only briefly at that."

Both youma knew what that meant. "A safe house," the Darkmistress spat disgustedly.

The Inquisitor nodded. "And an expertly hidden one at that. The paper trail for it was _perfect_. If I didn't know better, I'd say that it really _was_ a family home... that the family simply never visited."

That elicited a snort from the Darkmistress. "What about the other human?"

"We identified him as Saotome Ranma," was the Inquisitor's response. "He fits the same pattern. Spotty records, with long stretches missing..."

"...and an empty residence?" asked the Darkmistress.

"Even more troubling than that. There _was_ a caretaker in that one—supposedly his mother. When one of our disguised youma questioned her, she claimed that her son wasn't there, that he had left with his father to do some martial arts training." The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed. "But when we later questioned the neighbors, we learned that she's been repeating that exact same line to anyone who asks for _years_ now. Most of them think that she's in denial over her husband leaving her."

A hiss of breath came from the Darkmistress. "Or more likely, that she's been enthralled to provide a simple cover story for this 'Saotome Ranma' while he pursues... whatever his goals are."

"That was our conclusion as well. But concerning those goals..." The Inquisitor hesitated, but there was no way around what was perhaps the most troubling fact of all. "We have been completely unable to discover anything. Any information on what they _truly_ intend has been so expertly hidden that even _we_ cannot uncover it."

* * *

The colorfully dressed figure shot through the air toward Ranma, who jumped back at the last moment with a yelp. Ryouga, meanwhile, had moved between Beneda and the new assailant. As the attacker stopped moving, the youma got her first clear view of who it was.

"Oooh! We got us some baaad keiki 'ere, yeah!" Beneda blinked. It was a human... or at least, she thought it was. He was dressed in a glaring, multi-color shirt, complete with a necklace of flowers, a pair of sunglasses... and what appeared to be a tree.

Growing out of his head.

Even as the youma tried to process this development, the human was continuing his tirade. "Bruddah don' look sick to me! Playin' hooky be what da Big Kahuna t'ink it is!"

"Oh no, not _him!_" groaned Ranma. "How the hell did you even find out about this, pineapple-freak? Who told..." Abruptly she broke off, then continued darkly. "Nabiki."

"It don' make no diff'rence, boy!" the human shot back. "You breakin' da rules, you gotta be payin' da penalty!" And with that, he pulled a pineapple out of... somewhere... and flung it at Ranma. Only as it arced through the air did Beneda notice the fuse burning merrily away on it.

The pineapple bomb detonated spectacularly, but Ranma and Mousse were both well out of the way by then. "Gonna have to do better than that!" taunted the pigtailed fighter—and got three more bombs as his reply.

Beneda turned to Ryouga. "Who _is_ he?" she asked. The lost boy opened his mouth to reply...

"He's our principal," came a voice from behind them. The youma turned, and found herself face to face with another human. This one appeared to be a younger boy, around Ryouga's age, with his long hair tied back in a ponytail. He was looking at Beneda with an intensity that made her very nervous—especially given how well-armed he was. He wore a bandolier of small, oddly-shaped blades across his chest, and carried a single mammoth-sized version strapped to his back.

"Um, hello?" Beneda ventured.

Ryouga glanced back as well. "Oh, hey Ukyo," he said, before turning back to the fight. Mousse, still after Ranma but also annoyed at being treated as collateral damage by the Principal, was now trying to spear both of them with a naginata he had somehow pulled from his sleeves.

Beneda, for her part, kept her eyes on the newcomer, even as Ukyo leaned closer. "I'll ask you this just once..." he said, suspicion in his voice. "And I've already got most of the story from Nabiki, so don't think you can lie about it. Just what are your intentions toward my Ran-chan?"

"...intentions?" asked a puzzled Beneda—with Ryouga's near-simultaneous "Intentions!" forming an odd echo effect. Both of them were looking at Ukyo now, disbelief in Ryouga's features and incomprehension in Beneda's.

Ukyo glanced between the two of them, looking a little less sure of himself at their reactions. "Well..." he said at last. "Nabiki told me that there was an exotic new woman living here... and that Ranma had swept her off her feet... and that he was cutting school so that he could spend more time with her..."

Ryouga sighed, wondering just how Nabiki had even _known_ those kind of details about a fight she couldn't have seen herself. Probably she had gotten Ranma bragging about it sometime the previous night. "Well, yeah... I guess he did 'sweep her off her feet,' but that was only because some lunatic with a whip was trying to _kill_ her! And we've _both_ been spending all the time we can with her, because we don't know when more of them might come back! There really isn't anything more to it than that. Trust me."

Beneda, listening to all this, was belatedly starting to piece together what the conversation was actually about. "Intentions..." she said. "You mean... _romantic_ intentions?"

Ukyo nodded, causing Beneda to feel a little bit queasy. There were certainly youma who found the human form appealing—the infatuation Thetis had for Jadeite was well known—but Beneda had never really understood it herself. At least, as far as _sexual_ attraction went... She winced a little. No, that was not a direction she could envision herself going.

At any rate, between each of their responses, they seemed to have mostly persuaded Ukyo. "All right..." he said slowly, a little lingering suspicion still in his eyes. "I'll take your word for it. But don't expect the others to be so easy to convince."

Ryouga paled a little. "Others?"

"Oh yes," Ukyo said. "For example, as I was leaving school, I noticed Nabiki making a phone call. And it sounded like she was talking to a certain someone from..."

_"Ohohohohoho!"_

Everyone present—even Beneda—flinched at the mere sound of that laugh. "...St. Bacchus's School for Girls," Ukyo finished resignedly.

Beneda turned, and saw a girl dressed in a skintight black leotard standing on the outer wall of the compound amidst a swirl of countless black flower petals. "I see that the mercenary's information was indeed worth its price..." she said, a dangerous light in her eyes. "An ugly, deceitful monster has appeared to steal the heart of my beloved Ranma! But I, Kodachi the Black Rose, shall not permit it!"

"Perfect. Just _perfect!_" Ryouga muttered. "I'll bet Nabiki's making a bundle today..." He began to move toward the latest threat—but was stopped by Ukyo's hand on his shoulder.

"Let me take care of her," Ukyo said. "Consider it my apology for the misunderstanding." As he spoke, he unslung the massive weapon from his back, and grabbed a couple of the smaller blades in his other hand.

Ryouga hesitated, then gave his assent. "Careful," he said. "She may not be much in a straight up fight, but she's got all kinds of dirty tricks." Ukyo nodded once in reply, then proceeded to leap up onto the outer wall, facing Kodachi down.

"Ohohoho!" The cringe-inducing laugh rang out again. "So, the common okonomiyaki cook deludes herself into thinking she can defeat the Black Rose? I will crush you in battle, just as I will crush you in the battle for my darling Ranma!" With that, she whipped out a long ribbon, and sent it slicing through the air toward Ukyo in a writhing pattern that Beneda could barely even follow.

Ukyo, however, could, and avoided the weapon's every attack. Beneda watched this latest contest for a few moments, then turned to Ryouga. There had been something very odd that the Black Rose had just said... "Ryouga, did Kodachi just call Ukyo a 'she'?"

"Huh?" Ryouga asked, puzzled. Then suddenly, realization blossomed across his face. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Ukyo's a girl."

Beneda digested that for a moment, watching carefully as Ukyo began to take the offensive. She certainly didn't _look_ like a female. "Are you... sure?" Beneda asked at last.

For some reason, Ryouga's face turned a little red at the question. "Yes..." he said, fidgeting slightly. "Yes, I'm... pretty sure. I didn't believe it at first either, but Ranma, uh... convinced me."

From his demeanor, Beneda doubted she was going to get much more out of him on that subject. Besides, there were more pressing matters. "So, who else might Nabiki have sent our way?"

Ryouga frowned in thought. "She probably called the Nekohanten too, but since Shampoo already knows your real story I don't know if she'll bother to show up. Aside from that... well, Kuno will probably put on an appearance pretty soon."

"Kuno?"

"Obnoxious jerk with a wooden sword and an ego even bigger than Ranma's. You'll know him when you see him."

"I imagine." Beneda watched as Ukyo drove Kodachi back, keeping the Black Rose on a desperate defensive. It was obvious even to Beneda that the two were on different levels, enough that the latter was no real threat to the former.

At least... not until Kodachi managed to maneuver Ukyo to a spot where the Principal could see her. Without warning, he broke away from his fight with Mousse and Ranma and started flinging bombs in Ukyo's direction with a cry of "Hootah! We got one mo' hooky waihine here!"

Before Beneda could observe the results of this latest shift in the combat, yet another human appeared. This one had come through the Tendo house to reach the yard. He struck a grandiose pose, wooden sword held high, and opened his mouth—

Beneda beat him to it. "Kuno, right?" she remarked wryly.

"Indeed!" replied Kuno. "I see that the tales of my fearsome prowess have reached even to the dark pits from which you were spawned, foul monster! I know not why the cretinous Saotome has used his black magics to summon you from them, but I shall dispatch you thence with my righteous blade, and free the household of my beloved Akane from your loathsome presence!" He took a stance with his weapon. "Prepare yourself!"

A low growl began to build in Ryouga's throat. "Don't worry, Beneda," he said darkly, as he cracked his knuckles and began to advance on the other boy. "This won't take long."

"Ah!" Kuno responded. "So you recognize the inevitability of your own defeat! Very well, I shall indeed be merciful, and not prolong the _OOF! URRGH! GAAAACK!_" Beneda winced, as Ryouga began to systematically pulverize the delusional swordsman, pounding him again and again, before finally flinging him across the yard.

Across the yard... and straight into Ranma, sending the pigtailed fighter sprawling. "Hey, watch it!" she shouted from where she had landed, with Kuno draped over her.

"Oh quit whining!" Ryouga shot back. "You sound like a girl!"

"Yeah? Well let's see how well _you_ like it!" With that, Ranma sprang back to her feet, hefted the unconscious Kuno, and hurled him back at Ryouga.

Ryogua smacked the human projectile aside with one arm, then charged with an angry shout at the thrower. Soon he had rejoined the whirling kaleidoscope of mayhem that was playing out in the yard. Beneda watched it all, noting the irony that—although she was the ostensible cause of it all—at this point she had been mostly forgotten.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the oldest Tendo daughter—Kasumi—sitting down on the porch, watching the fighting with a mild interest while sipping some human drink. Figuring it was as good a place as any, Beneda walked over in her direction.

Kasumi looked up as Beneda approached, her face brightening. "Oh, hello Beneda!" she said. "Would you like some tea?"

"No thank you," replied the youma, sitting down next to Kasumi all the same. And they simply waited there, together, observing the carnage. It didn't surprise Beneda when Shampoo _did_ show up, followed closely by Akane. Neither of them showed any hesitation in diving into the fray themselves.

Soon it was all but impossible to even tell the pursuers from the pursued, as the various martial artists chased each other in circles all around the yard. Blades, bombs, bandannas, mallets, maces, ribbons, and more fighting techniques than Beneda's eyes could even begin to take in—all crashing together in a wild, chaotic scramble.

* * *

"...and considering all this, the conclusion is unmistakable." The Inquisitor took a deep breath. "We are being challenged by a highly organized, devilishly subtle group of foes. There is little doubt that the actions we've seen so far—subverting one of our youma, then leading our forces into their trap—have been only the opening moves in their overarching master plan."

"Have the surveillance team identified any other members of their group?"

Beneath her mask, the Inquisitor winced. "Mistress, the last report we received from them stated that the two enemy mages and the rogue youma had emerged from this 'Tendo dojo.' One of the Inquisitors was going to follow them to wherever their destination was. There... were no further reports after that, nor have we been able to contact them."

"So..." the Darkmistress murmured softly. "They can even detect and destroy two of my own agents. How... fascinating."

Then her voice went hard again. "Tell me, Inquisitor. What move would _you_ suggest we make as a response to theirs?"

"M... me?" stammered the Inquisitor, her throat suddenly dry. "I... Mistress, we... we need to learn more about these enemies, and more importantly, we need to regain the initiative. If they can detect our agents, then more surveillance teams would simply be throwing good money after bad. I humbly suggest..."

She paused, thinking through her plan once more, hoping desperately that it would be regarded favorably. "I suggest an all-out assault. Send a full squad of Inquisitors under the cover of night. Hit them hard enough, and we may be able to disrupt whatever they're planning. And if we can take prisoners..." Her voice trailed off as she cowered, waiting to know her mistress's judgment of what she had said.

Second after second of silence passed, until at last the Darkmistress spoke. "I agree," she said. "Except... I think that we can do better than a squad of Inquisitors."

"Mistress? What do you mean?"

The Darkmistress gave a long, malicious laugh. "I mean that these new players are beginning to intrigue me," she said.

"And I think that I'd like to play with them myself..."

* * *

The fight in the Tendo yard went on for quite some time, but eventually it wound down as the combatants grew progressively more tired. There were no clear winners—although there were a few clear losers, namely Kuno and the Principal. The pair had earned that dubious distinction from being the only two unable to leave the field of battle on their own power. Kasumi had ended up calling a cab to carry the two unfortunates back home.

Kodachi, on the other hand, had escaped virtually unscathed. She'd been doing fairly well for herself, actually, by maneuvering her stronger opponents into conflicts with each other. Still, she'd been forced to beat a hasty retreat after Ukyo and Akane had started to mount a very determined double-team against her.

After that, the remaining fighters had started to drop out one by one. Ranma and Ryouga were the last to cease hostilities—and in fact the two of them had seemed perfectly willing to keep pounding away at each other until the sun went down. It had taken some firm persuasion—applied in the form of a mallet and a giant spatula, respectively—to get them to finally let it go. The end result of it all was six extremely tired teenagers and one youma sitting in a loose circle in the yard, carrying on as much conversation as they had energy for.

Unbeknownst to them, however, there was someone else listening in on the conversation. He was hidden, crouching behind a group of bushes on the far side of the yard, straining his ears to catch bits and pieces of what was being said. In their worn-out condition, none of the martial artists noticed the eavesdropper.

But then, that wasn't surprising. He was, after all, the type that nobody notices.

On occasion, that was a useful trait. Normally, he wouldn't have had the money—or, to be more honest, the nerve—to approach a girl like Tendo Nabiki for information. But he had happened to be nearby when she had told Kuno about the Tendo dojo's most recent guest, and after hearing what she had said, he simply _had_ to see for himself.

And her claims were true. Even now, he could barely believe it. Yet it was unmistakable. If the thing's appearance weren't clue enough, what he was able to hear of the conversation confirmed the matter.

Quietly, he slunk away. He had heard enough, and he definitely didn't want to risk getting caught. Besides, his mind was already spinning with thoughts of what it all meant.

All the way home, he entertained various scenarios, played out various possibilities in his mind. By the time he reached his front door, he was nearly trembling with excitement. He flung it open with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, and raced upstairs to his room, not even hearing his mother's greeting.

Once there, he shut the door, locked it, and leaned back against it for a few moments, breathing heavily. Then, collecting himself, he went over to his bed, reached underneath it, and pulled out a cardboard box.

With almost religious anticipation, he opened it, revealing some of his greatest treasures. On top of the pile was the most recent edition of _Sorceror's Monthly_. The cover page showed an artist's depiction of two girls dressed in rather skimpy seifuku, while the gaudy headline proclaimed: "Magical Warriors in Juuban: Fact or Fiction?"

Digging deeper into the box, he pulled out more and more pictures and articles, all about the mysterious Sailor Senshi. Most of the images were hand-drawn... except for one. It was a frame taken from a security camera, a blurry, low-resolution picture of a girl wearing that same uniform, with twin streamers of hair running down her back, facing off against a bat-like creature in the middle of a large concert hall.

That picture was his pride and joy. This was because—to the utter chagrin of the journalists and self-appointed Senshi merchandisers—no one had yet succeeded in getting a clearer photograph of any of them. Even that one recording had been a stroke of luck. Usually, when police investigated a Senshi fight, they found all such sources of evidence either deactivated beforehand or destroyed afterward. But this one had been missed, and he had spent hours gazing at the indistinct image, blissfully imagining what the lovely warrior would be like in person.

And he had even more drawings in that box than were currently visible, drawings that he kept hidden under a false bottom he had constructed. Those were of the Senshi as well—although in those they were wearing... substantially less.

But he had no time for that now. Instead, he began to flip through the articles, re-reading all the eyewitness accounts, as jumbled and contradictory as they could be at times. Still, through it all, the larger theme shone through—the story of the battle between the virtuous, lovely, beautiful Sailor Senshi... and their vile enemies, the youma.

And now one of those youma was here. Hiding in Nerima, considerably outside the area that the Senshi usually operated in.

Shielded by that fool Saotome.

Slowly, he looked around his room, noting the half-dozen voodoo dolls lying around with spikes in them—his latest batch of failures. He had to admit that his _own_ track record in calling down arcane forces on Saotome's head had been... less than spectacular. But his faith remained absolute that—properly implemented—the _true_ power of magic was something his enemy could never, ever match.

A gleam began to grow in his dark-ringed eyes. His choice—no, his duty!—was clear. He had to find the Senshi, had to warn them about the youma that was lurking here in Nerima, so that they could crush it under the hammer of righteousness.

And if that hammer happened to strike Saotome Ranma on its way down...

Well. Gosunkugi Hikaru wouldn't mind that one bit.

* * *

The remainder of the evening passed, and night fell, and soon enough morning came again. The sun rose once more over Tokyo, bathing the city in its warm glow. That glow extended even to the small café "La Crepe," which stood nestled in the heart of the Juuban neighborhood.

Inside the café, one of the walls began to pulse with a strange, dark aura. In the space of a few seconds a portal formed, connecting that place, briefly, to another dimension altogether. And in that brief moment of contact, something passed through.

She was—to all outward appearances—human. She seemed to be quite young; an uninformed observer might have called her ten years old, maybe eleven. Her midnight-black hair hung down to her waist in two long pigtails, and her slender, waif-like body was clad in an appropriately generic school uniform.

All in all, she seemed the very picture of innocence... except for her eyes. There was something not quite right about those eyes, not just a normal black, but an dead emptiness that actively _ate_ whatever light they encountered.

Slowly, she looked around herself, taking a deep breath of anticipation. Then, her childish features twisting into a smile of horrific malice, the Darkmistress exited the café, turned, and began to walk leisurely toward Nerima.


	7. Closing In

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Apologies for the long delay on this one. I got caught up in a Naruto one-shot that was _supposed_ to be a background project, but ended up devouring my focus for a couple months until I finally finished it. So, yeah, the moral of the story is "claymade can't really juggle three fics at once"—and believe me, I've learned my lesson.

On a much brighter note, however: the most excellent Lathis is now lending his expertise to this fic by acting as one of the betas for it. Anyone who has read his stuff knows his impressive knack for crossovers prominently featuring our favorite Lost Boy, and I heartily recommend his stories to any of you who might not have had that pleasure yet. This chapter would be a lot weaker if he hadn't caught various slip-ups that I'd made.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Closing In

Akane kept up a brisk, steady jog. Her feet were pointed toward Furinkan High, her eyes stealing glances from time to time at the young man running on the chain-link fence beside her.

It was, she thought irately, so very like Ranma to pick a mode of transportation that—intentionally or not—resulted in him looking down at everybody else. It was like a silent metaphor for his rarely-silent observations on how their skills compared.

She tried to feel anger over it. It would have been a welcome distraction from other, less comfortable emotions that were churning inside her. But today, even her anger felt forced and hollow. Not knowing what else to do, she let out a loud huff and increased her speed.

Ranma, being Ranma, kept pace effortlessly.

Against Akane's wishes, her mind turned toward the events of the previous evening, after the brawl had subsided. That was when she had first learned that Cologne was _not_ going to help them—and was, in fact, out to kill Beneda as well. A shiver ran through her. The thought of going up against the old master was bad enough in and of itself, but to face this Dark Kingdom at the same time...

_At least we're not doing it alone..._ she tried to reassure herself. Both Ukyo and Shampoo had enthusiastically promised Ranma their help in dealing with the situation, bringing the total number of defenders up to eight.

Not that she really trusted Shampoo any farther than she could throw her, of course. Still, it was _something_.

But was it enough? That was the question that kept gnawing at her. She knew that Ranma and Ryouga had both fought youma now, and while they had certainly won, the battles had been far from easy. And according to what Beneda had told them, there was a whole _army_ of youma at their enemies' command. Even with Cologne as a full-fledged ally, those would have been grim odds. With Cologne as an _enemy_...

Involuntarily, Akane glanced up at Ranma once more. The pigtailed martial artist continued to run forward, oblivious to her worried looks. His feet were tapping out their staccato rhythm on the fence edge, a single misstep away from falling. But he ran on, unconcerned, trusting in his skill never to make that misstep.

A cold current of fear wound its way through Akane's stomach. It was so easy, watching him, for her to think of him as invincible. The untouchable fighter who had dropped suddenly into her life, and blown away any sense of scale she had previously used to think of combat ability. She had resented him for that. She still did, at times.

But not right now. Because, although she would never admit it to another soul, she knew that there was one feeling that was even worse than the times when Ranma seemed so utterly, infuriatingly invincible.

The times when she was afraid he might not be.

They rounded a corner, Furinkan High coming into view and providing a _very_ welcome distraction. Yuka and Sayuri would be waiting for her there, and she wondered what she was going to say to them. The whole situation was... a little hard to sum up, and besides, she didn't want to worry them.

She knew that Ranma would have preferred to skip school again, in case of another attack. So would she, for that matter. But for either of them—or Ukyo—to do so would doubtless have provoked yet another foray by their lunatic principal.

And they had enough enemies already without adding _even more_ to them.

Besides—according to Beneda—any big attacks would almost certainly come at night anyway. Supposedly, the Dark Kingdom was in chronically short supply of youma who could disguise themselves as humans. That, combined with the desire to keep a low profile, meant that any large-scale troop movements would usually happen under the cover of darkness.

The thought didn't exactly _relieve_ her, but it did abate her worries a bit for her family and friends back at the dojo. If the Dark Kingdom sent a large force their way, then at least they would face it together. And if they sent a smaller group...

Well. She was sure that together, the others could easily handle a mere one or two youma.

* * *

The Darkmistress strode through the streets of Tokyo. Clad in her schoolgirl guise, she calmly, steadily made her way toward her destination. A hungry smile was fixed on her features, as she anticipated the confrontation to come.

She sucked in a deep, satisfied breath, then let it out again. She was at peak strength, having drained the life energy of several dozen Dark Kingdom animals before setting out. It didn't nearly match the quality provided by a sentient being, of course, but enough of it would get the job done.

The hustle and bustle of the crowded shopping districts had some time ago given way to a quieter, more residential area. But even out here, there were still the occasional pedestrians passing by her on either side—all of them completely unaware of what was moving through their midst. The Darkmistress followed the humans with her eyes, a bright smile on her cherubic face, entertaining herself by envisioning the possibilities of what she could do to each of them once their hold on this world was secure.

It was a challenge of imagination, with some choices more obvious than others. The middle-aged businessman who brushed hurriedly past her—knives for him. Her smallest, most surgical set. Countless tiny cuts, letting the bleeding do the work over as many days as she could possibly string it out.

Still, some eluded her. She mulled over the sauntering teenager with his slicked-back hair for quite some time after he'd been lost to sight, but was unable to settle on anything more fitting than simple bludgeoning—to her mind, a quite banal choice.

But others were more rewarding. The two chattering housewives crossing the street up ahead were clearly meant for one of her special chambers back in the Devil's Keep. She could place them both in it together... and then simply seal the room so that it was absolutely airtight. She laughed aloud at the mental image, the sound emerging as a light, girlish giggle.

But delicious though her pastime was, it was also distracting. With an effort of will, she forced her attention back to the matter at hand. For the moment, she was hunting much more dangerous prey than these sheep.

A shiver of excitement ran through her at the thought. If the reports of her subordinates were any indication, these new interlopers were a force to be reckoned with. It had been a long time since she had faced a true challenge, a conflict where the outcome was actually in some amount of doubt.

That absence was, in its own way, a danger. It was a temptation toward laziness, toward resting on one's laurels. That was why she occasionally decided to handle matters like this herself, to ensure that she never lost that killer instinct that only life and death situations could keep sharp.

As well as to remind any uppity subordinates of just what she was capable of.

Drawing on her memories of her Inquisitors' report, she envisioned the base that the humans were operating from—this "Tendo Dojo." She wondered idly if the owners were themselves in league with these new players, or whether they had been brainwashed and controlled—as the Dark Kingdom so often did to obtain their own bases. One more question she would have to ask, after she had broken them.

It was then that she caught sight of the homeless man.

She stopped dead, her eyes turning to stare at him. He was an old man, dressed in a mound of tattered, mismatched clothes. His hunched frame shuffled along the sidewalk, bleary eyes not looking at anything in particular.

The Darkmistress's breath caught in her throat. She knew that she should be focusing on her true prey, knew that distractions were best avoided, knew that secrecy should be her top priority. But it was just so... _perfect!_ A quiet neighborhood, with few people around... and right in front of her, a human whose absence no one would note.

Her decision was made in a split-second. She began to skip toward him, playing the precocious schoolgirl to the hilt. Upon reaching him, she stopped right in his path, beaming up at him. "Hello grandpa!" she said. "I have something I really, really, really want to show you! Could you please come with me? It'll just be for a little bit!"

The old human looked down at her, eyes focusing a little bit as a frown crossed his face. Perhaps it was natural suspicion on his part, perhaps a subconscious warning of some kind, but he did not appear inclined to go along with her request. He mumbled something that sounded like an apology, and tried to walk around the young-seeming figure.

But the Darkmistress latched onto his arm, tugging him in the direction she wanted him to go. "C'mon!" she said, pouring on the charm. "It'll be so much _fun!_ C'mon, c'mon, _c'mon!_" She kept pulling at him, and the old human seemed reluctant to use too much force to resist such a young girl. As a result, she was able to maneuver him off the main street, toward a more secluded back alley.

Gradually, his struggles began to grow in intensity—but by then he was already well away from any nearby witnesses, and he found himself unable to break free of her grip no matter how hard he yanked. She dragged him onward, into the alley, and around one final corner, to where they could not be seen by any prying eyes.

Immediately she whirled, grabbing the man by the collar and smashing him into the nearest wall with bone-crushing force. He tried to scream, but her small hand shot up and clamped around his mouth with vise-like strength, muffling all his cries and pleas. Then she raised her other hand, arcs of blood-red lightning crackling between her fingers.

The human thrashed wildly back and forth, trying to get free, but the Darkmistress held him in place without any discernable effort. As he watched, eyes bulging with terror, the cute smile on her face slowly widened, becoming an expression of hideous, demonic glee.

Yes, her true prey were the new interlopers—and she would deal with them soon enough. But a mere ten minutes either way would not make much of a difference... and such a perfect opportunity to kill a human was beyond her ability to pass up.

* * *

"Hibiki."

The lost boy turned at the curt sound of his name, looking across the roof of the Tendo home to where two figures had just alighted. "Mousse," he acknowledged with a nod. Then he turned to the youma standing beside the hidden weapons master. "Beneda. Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

She nodded, which was a relief to Ryouga. He knew this all had to be taking a toll on her—thrown into an unfamiliar place, with dangers all around that she was helpless to fight against herself. It was good that she was managing some amount of peace in the middle of this desperate situation.

Beneda, meanwhile was speaking. "It's time to change the watch, Ryouga. You can get some rest now."

Ryouga blinked. "Already?" he asked, glancing around in mild surprise. He had noticed that morning had risen, of course, but he hadn't realized it was _that_ far into the day. "Wow. Time sure flies, I guess."

Stifling a yawn, he pulled himself to his feet while working the kinks out of his stiffened joints. "Thanks," he told Mousse, as he walked toward the edge of the roof. "A little sleep does sound really good right now. I'll see you in—"

He was cut off as Mousse's hand shot out, grabbing him by the collar. "Go down with _her_, Hibiki," the nearsighted marital artist said, pointing with his other hand back toward Beneda. "We can't afford to have you wandering off to Hong Kong on us."

Ryouga felt his cheeks flush a bit, but mustering as much dignity as he could, he nodded and made an about face. Beneda fell in step next to him, providing him with mercifully silent guidance.

Together, they made their way to the edge of the roof, dropped the short distance to the balcony below, and went through Akane's room to the upper-floor hallway of the Tendo home. From there, Beneda led him to the guest room, where an extra floor mat had been laid out in addition to the two that Genma and Ranma used.

Ryouga sighed, then spoke at last. "Thank you for showing me the way," he told her, embarrassed at his directional deficiencies being yet again put on display.

Beneda shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "It's not a problem," she replied. "There's... not many other ways that I can be useful to you. I mean, with all you're doing to help me..."

The lost boy yawned again, his eyes heavy. Now in actual sight of bed, his night on watch was making its effects known even more strenuously. Nevertheless, even as he stretched himself out on the mat, he made sure to respond to what the youma had said. "Don't worry about that, Beneda. It's just what friends do for each other. That's all."

* * *

Beneda looked down at Ryouga's sleeping form, turning his statement over and over again in her mind. Such simple words. _Just what friends do for each other._

Of course, the fool only said that in the first place because he had no idea what her true purposes were. This "friendship" was nothing more than her successfully pulling the wool over his eyes.

And yet, somehow, that thought didn't quite manage to give her the same satisfaction it once would have. By all rights she should have been filled with gloating _glee_ at the deception she was accomplishing. But instead, all she felt was a vague uneasiness, a strange, almost... empty sensation.

She clenched her teeth. _This is stupid,_ she thought. _Why the hell should I care what happens to some human, or what he thinks of me?_

There was no reason. None. And yet...

And yet he _wasn't_ just "some human." He was... _Ryouga._ And _Ranma_, and _Akane_, and the rest of their family. People who'd fought for her, opened their home to her, treated her with a care that she'd never, _ever_ known, even if she couldn't begin to fathom their reasons.

None of that changed the reality of the situation, of course. Sooner or later, the Dark Kingdom would crush them under its feet, along with the rest of the human world. Her only hope for survival was still to regain her masters' favor before that happened. And her only hope for that was still to manipulate her protectors into fighting their own allies.

With a sudden motion, Beneda dropped to one knee, thrusting out the palm of her hand to hover just above Ryouga's shoulder. Her face twisting into a snarl, she began to pull life energy from his sleeping body, feeling the delicious flow of power. _Yes!_ she thought savagely. _This is the world I know! This is the way things are supposed to be! Humans are our food! We subsist off their very life force, and what we want, we take!_

Even though, if she dared broach the subject openly, she knew that Ryouga would offer it freely to her...

Her hand clenched shut spasmodically, cutting off the energy drain. She hadn't had her fill yet, and such chances might be few and far between in the coming days... but she could still make it up sometime later. She just wasn't feeling like it at the moment.

Jumping back to her feet, she turned and walked hastily out of the room, along the hallway, and down the stairs. She had no real idea where she was going, beyond "away from there." She needed to get some space, needed to find someplace she could think.

Or better, find someplace where she didn't have to think.

In a matter of seconds she reached the ground floor of the Tendo compound. Wandering out, she saw that Soun and Genma were out on the porch, engrossed in playing some kind of human game. Perfect. Now, if she just headed for the relative privacy of the dojo, she could spend some time alone, clearing her head of all the maddening emotions that these humans were—

"Oh! Beneda!"

With a yelp, the youma whirled... to see the human called Kasumi standing behind her. Immediately, the human's face took on an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

"I... I wasn't startled," replied Beneda, trying to bring her too-frayed nerves back under some semblance of control. "I mean... not _really._"

The human smiled. "Oh, that's good," she said, sounding relieved. "So... what are your plans for the day?"

"Uh... I'm..." The youma struggled to come up with something to say. "I... don't really know. I was... just trying to think of something to pass the time..."

Kasumi nodded sympathetically. "Yes, it can get a little dull around here, especially when Ranma and his friends are away..." She paused for a moment in thought, then continued. "But if you are looking for something to pass the time... I find that cooking can sometimes help. If you'd like to try it, I was just about to start preparing lunch..." She looked at the youma, a hopeful, encouraging look on her face.

Beneda bit back a whimper, seeing her plans of solitude slowly crumbling before her very eyes, done in by her own hastily-chosen words. For the sake of her sanity, she was almost tempted to turn Kasumi down. But... she had _said_ she was looking for something to do... and to then spurn the offer so flatly might offend her protectors...

And so she nodded weakly, and allowed herself to be led into the Tendo kitchen.

* * *

Mousse sighed, trying his best to get comfortable on his rooftop perch, while wondering to himself just what on earth he was doing.

The idea of being a spy for Cologne had seemed more or less straightforward at the time she had explained it to him, but now he was having his doubts. Just what was he supposed to be looking _for_, anyway? All he had to go on was some hunch of Cologne's that the youma was up to something. And because of that, he had to waste his time on things like this, when he could spend it wooing Shampoo.

_And just when I was finally starting to make some headway with her, too!_ He had been greatly encouraged by the results of his latest ardent display of affection—Shampoo hadn't pounded his head into the pavement with _nearly_ her usual amount of force, using only three kicks instead of her customary six or seven.

True, some of that might have been due to the hurry she'd been in at the time... but no, Mousse was sure that she was warming up to him!

Yet now he was stuck here, standing guard, unable to follow up on such promising progress. He sighed again. At least his beloved would be coming over later in the day, after she'd finished running deliveries for Cologne. He would get to see her then.

For all the good it would do. That blasted Saotome would be home by then as well, and she would no doubt be fawning all over him. Mousse clenched his fist, beside himself with anger at the horrible mental images.

Suddenly, his furious daydreams were interrupted by a sound from below. Adjusting his glasses, he stared intently at where it had come from. Someone was knocking loudly on the gate in the Tendo compound's outer wall.

From his current angle he couldn't see who—or what—it was, but his brow furrowed in concentration. Could this be it? Could this be the monster attack that everyone had been anticipating?

Well if it was, then those monsters would rue the day that they challenged him.

He rose into a crouch, whipping out a large knife from his sleeves and holding it in a reverse grip behind his forearm. Then he dropped down to the yard, walking warily toward the gate. The knocking continued, even as he drew closer and closer.

Soon he was within arm's length of the gate. He reached out slowly, his free hand resting on the wood of the door, while his other hand clenched the hilt of his weapon. He licked his lips... then in a blindingly fast motion, flung open the gate, his every instinct at the ready—

—but then relaxed as he saw who was actually doing the knocking. No monster at all; just a cute little girl.

She jumped back a step or two, apparently startled by the sudden opening of the door. But she recovered herself soon enough. "Hello!"

"Uh, hello..." Mousse replied, a little off-balance himself from the anti-climactic revelation. He made sure his knife was still concealed behind his arm, and then surreptitiously slid it back up his sleeve before continuing. "Who are you?"

"My name's Aiko!" she chirped, beaming up at him as she stepped through the doorway. "Who're you?"

"I..." Mousse began, before stopping himself. This was no time for such foolishness. "Look... Aiko. You shouldn't be here. It's not safe."

"Awww..." the girl pouted, taking a few more steps in and causing Mousse to backpedal a bit. "But this is the Tendo Dojo, isn't it? I have a _special gift_ that I really wanted to give Mr. Tendo."

Mousse frowned, alarm bells starting to go off in his head. Something wasn't right here. The girl kept pressing her way inward... and was it just his imagination, or was there something just slightly _off_ with her aura? "I'm sure Mr. Tendo wouldn't mind if you came back some other day," he said at last. "But you need to leave. _Now._"

"How come?" the girl asked, advancing another couple steps.

And then Mousse decided to put his foot down. "It doesn't matter," he said firmly, grabbing her by the shoulder to halt her advance. "If you don't—"

With viper-like speed, one of the girl's hands shot up, grabbing Mousse's own hand and trapping it against her shoulder. The next instant, she channeled a surge of red lightning through his arm and into his body.

Mousse screamed. The pain was unbelievable, feeling as though every part of his body was tearing itself into tiny shreds. With a strength born of desperation, he whipped his knife back out of his sleeve with his other hand, and swung it at the girl's head.

Before it could connect, the girl made a thrust with _her_ other hand, firing a bolt of the red energy directly into Mousse's chest.

* * *

Beneda picked up another vegetable, placed it on the cutting board, then formed one of her shuriken and began to chop. Kasumi had been delighted when the youma had demonstrated the particular utility of her powers toward this kind of task, and that had promptly become her job. _Just as long as she doesn't expect me to actually put any of this into my mouth..._

At first, Beneda had tried to keep up her feelings of dismay at being stuck in yet another human's company. But as the two of them had begun to work together, such feelings had—little by little—begun to seep away.

She had quickly found that having a simple task to focus on was, in fact, a great aid in calming herself. She had fallen into a rhythm, broken only by Kasumi occasionally bringing up some random—but harmless—conversation topic. Most of the time, Beneda only had the vaguest sort of idea what the human was talking about anyway.

So all in all, there was little to cause her any disquiet in this human's presence. The only exceptions were when Kasumi commented on the work Beneda was doing—either earnest praise, or a gentle suggestion on how it could be done better. _Those_ instances unsettled her a little. She could hear the warmth in the human's voice, the genuine happiness—for _Beneda's own_ sake—at how well the youma was doing. It was a truly alien sensation, so unlike any rare "praise" that she had ever received from her old masters.

Suddenly, Kasumi cocked her head. "Oh," she said. "That's strange. It sounds like someone is knocking on the gate. I should go see who it is."

Beneda glanced in that direction as well. Now that Kasumi mentioned it, she could hear a faint knocking sound. "Let Mousse take care of it," the youma replied firmly. "It's his job as the one on guard."

Kasumi hesitated, then at last nodded. "I suppose so," she said reluctantly. Beneda was relieved at her acquiescence; she didn't really _expect_ that the Dark Kingdom would make a move in broad daylight, but there was always the chance they might, which meant it was too dangerous for someone like Kasumi to go and check on such things.

Not that she was actually concerned over Kasumi, she reminded herself sternly. It was just... that she knew _Ryouga_ would take it badly if anything happened to the young woman.

Not that she was actually concerned over Ryouga either.

Shaking herself out of her distraction, she noticed that the knocking sounds had stopped. "See?" she told Kasumi. "Mousse got it. He's probably just—"

Her words were abruptly cut off by a blood-curdling scream. Both the youma and the human whirled, their eyes wide with fear. Beneda raced to one of the kitchen doors and looked out into the hallway beyond...

...just in time to see Mousse's limp body come smashing straight through the wall of the Tendo house, propelled by a bolt of crimson lightning.

* * *

It was the scream that woke Ryouga.

Because of his solitary existence, often in wild and dangerous places, he had by necessity learned to be a light sleeper. The instant the scream reached his ears he was up, rolling frantically off his mat, fighting to untangle himself from the sheets. He wasted precious moments in disorientation, but then the sound of a large crash from downstairs quickly told him everything he needed to know. _An attack!_

He managed to locate the door to the room, and quickly dashed out through it. He then proceeded to race down the hallway with all the speed he could muster, horribly aware that each second could be the difference between life or death for someone down there. Inside, he was frantically berating himself. _Why did I have to go to sleep? I could have stayed awake longer than that! I should have been down there watching out for Beneda and Kasumi!_

In moments, he reached the end of the hall. Skidding to a stop, he reached desperately for the door that led to the stairway, and flung it open—

—to reveal Akane's room.

He was lost.

* * *

Beneda only saw Mousse for an instant. As the youma looked on in horror, his trajectory carried him through another wall and out of sight. Immediately afterward, she heard the sound of running footsteps, and then Soun and Genma rounded a corner of the hallway and came into view. "What's going on?" the former demanded.

Before Beneda could answer, something stepped through the hole that Mousse's body had made. It was slight of frame, with the body of a child, but Beneda knew immediately that it was something far more terrible.

The two men turned to face it as well. "Who are you?" asked Soun cautiously. "What are you doing here?"

_"That's not a human!"_ Beneda screamed.

Both martial artists took a fighting stance at her warning, but still seemed a bit hesitant about attacking what appeared to be a small child. But their assailant only let out a small giggle, then beckoned them with a single finger. "Come," she said. "You've made things very boring for me so far."

Genma and Soun exchanged glances, and then together they charged at the girl. She responded by extending both of her hands, discharging a blast of red lightning from each one. Genma leaped over the attack aimed at him, then ricocheted off the wall into a flying kick toward her head. Soun, on the other hand, rolled underneath the attack aimed at him, coming in low.

The girl smirked. Then, moving almost too fast for Beneda's eyes to follow, she sidestepped out of the way of Genma's kick and grabbed him by the ankle. She then swung him bodily in a full circle, taking out a good section of the nearby wall and ending by slamming him into Soun, sending both of them crashing back the way they had come with terrible velocity.

She spared them a disdainful glance... and then her eyes turned to focus on Beneda. "So..." she said. "The rebellious little youma herself..."

Raw panic coursing through her body, Beneda slammed the door shut and scrambled back into the kitchen. She had hardly done so, however, before she heard approaching footsteps—and then the little girl ripped the door completely from its frame, tossing it behind her as she strode into the kitchen. Beneda continued to stumble backward, until at last she ran into the far wall of the kitchen, and she could go no further.

Kasumi, however, had not fled, and was facing the oncoming attacker. _"Stop this!"_ she cried out, as the little girl continued to advance. "You can't—"

Without breaking stride, the girl reached out, grabbed Kasumi by the throat, and flung her off to the side. The human barely managed to give a short shriek before she slammed into the wall, crumpling to the ground in a limp heap.

_"Kasumi!"_ Beneda heard Soun's voice scream his daughter's name, followed by two pairs of running footsteps—the older martial artists rushing to rejoin the fight.

Without taking her eyes off Beneda, the girl raised a hand toward them, tracking them by mere sound. Desperately, Beneda tried to give a warning. _"Look ou—"_

Too late. As the footsteps approached the door to the room, the girl fired her lightning right through the wall. Beneda caught a brief glimpse of Soun, before the force of the blast carried him from sight.

The next instant, Genma shot through the new hole in the wall, launching himself at the girl with a rapid-fire barrage of kicks and punches. But she was able to easily deflect each and every one. Genma kept pressing the attack, with blow after blow after blow—

And then, seeing her opening, the girl counterattacked. A tiny fist plowed into Genma's stomach with enough power to double him over. She then spun into a backhand that caught him across the face, sending him spinning away.

But she didn't let him get far. She was on him in a heartbeat, grabbing him by the neck. Then she swung him in a full arc through the air above her, bringing him down headfirst onto the top of the nearby kitchen counter, driving him straight through it in a shower of splintering wood, until his head collided with the floor beneath.

Then she stood, giving Genma's prone body one last kick for good measure, and turned to face Beneda.

The cowering youma raised her hands, forming a shuriken on each as she did. "S- s- stay back!" she managed to say. "I- I'm warning you!"

Of course, she had no illusions about her ability to be anything more than a mild annoyance to this level of opponent. She was just hoping to bluff, to stall for time.

It might have been slightly more convincing had her hands been shaking less.

The attacker, for her part, regarded Beneda with incredulity. "You dare to point your weapons at me?" she asked at last. "_You_ dare to point your weapons at _me?_" With that, she resumed closing in on Beneda—and as she did so, the form of the "little girl" began to shift and distort.

She grew, increasing in size until she was as tall as an adult human. The schoolgirl uniform stretched into a black cloak, made of a rough, durable cloth. The childish skin turned a pale, pasty white, a flaking, festering mass of tissue. Her features appeared to melt, warping into a ghastly, bulging mockery of a face.

But worse than any of that was the poisonous presence that filled the air. Beneda crumpled immediately as it hit her; she could barely breathe, barely think. It felt like the aura was trying to rot her were she stood, a force of utter, hideous decay.

And there, now visible across her forehead, was the sign of her office—a white headpiece, crafted in the shape of outstretched wings, with a dark red gem at its center.

"D- D- Darkmistress...!" Beneda whimpered, all hope deserting her in that moment. She had never, never in her darkest nightmares imagined that such a being would come after her _personally_.

The walking corpse twitched the corners of its mouth up in something approaching a smile as it continued to close in on her. "You should never have tried to run..." it said, in a voice that sounded like rock being crushed. "No youma escapes me."

* * *

Panicking nearly to the point of hysteria, Ryouga ran like a madman through the labyrinthine maze that was the Tendo home's upper floor. He spun back and forth, trying to force his worthless, thrice-damned brain to work out _where the stairs were_.

Unfortunately, his panic only served to undermine whatever slim chance he might have had at working it out—which, in turn, only made his panic all the worse.

_I just came out of Nabiki's room... and then I turned left—or was it right? Maybe right was the way I should have gone, but I went straight instead! That means the stairs would be right around this corner here... except... what if I'm thinking of it coming from the guest room?_

He could hear the sounds of combat coming from below, could sense the battle playing out. Hearing _Kasumi's_ scream had pushed him to the brink of insanity.

_No! I have to stay calm! I have to think! I have to think!_

And worst of all was the fear of losing himself entirely. How was he supposed to know which of these hallways was the one that led to the stairs, and which was the one that led to Okinawa? If he chose wrong, it would be _weeks_ before he could find his way back!

_I think a left turn here... This has to be it!_

He flung open the door to reveal the guest room he'd started from—for the third time—and sobbed in horror at the sight. _No, no, no, damn it all, NO!_

And then the aura manifested. Even from a floor above it was a hideous presence, stopping Ryouga dead in his tracks. He looked down at the floor, realizing that his friends were at the mercy of something like _that_, while he stood helpless. _No!_ his mind screamed. _I have to do something! I need to get down there!_

_Need... to get down there..._

_Down!_

It was then that an idea penetrated the suffocating cloud of panic, and without hesitation he acted on it. "To hell with the stairs!" he snarled, as he raised his fist high.

* * *

Beneda cowered before the Darkmistress's advance, curling herself up in a corner of the kitchen, rational thought all but lost in the face of the other youma's choking power and her own fear. She knew that it was over.

Then, without warning, came the sound of smashing wood. A moment later, off to the side, a large section of the ceiling caved in. And there, falling in the midst of the debris, was Ryouga.

The Darkmistress whirled, extending her palm toward the lost boy, red energy crackling around it. Beneda's breath caught in her throat. In mid-air, Ryouga would be an easy target—

But before she could even complete the thought, a chain shot into view, wrapping around the Darkmistress's wrist and wrenching it off-target. The bolt of energy tore through a good section of the kitchen wall, but Ryouga landed unscathed.

Beneda looked over where the chain had come from, to see Mousse standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was leaning heavily on the doorframe for support, but he held grimly onto the other end of the chain, preventing the enemy from targeting the other martial artist.

For a moment, the Darkmistress simply paused there, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Then, at last, a small chuckle escaped her throat. "So, then..." she grated out. "Are you going to give me a bit of a challenge after all?"

* * *

Meanwhile, miles away from the battle playing out in Nerima, a subway train rocketed along the tracks toward its destination.

Gosunkugi stood nervously by one of the windows, looking out at the tunnel walls as they shot past. He had talked himself out of—and back into—this a hundred times over the previous night, but in the end he had summoned up his courage, skipped school, and bought the ticket.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he thought of what lay ahead. Could he really do this? Find the Sailor Senshi? Warn them of the vile partnership that Saotome was forging with their enemies?

He had to. That was what it came down to, in the end. This was his chance. To experience real magic. To see his rival crushed. To be a hero.

Gosunkugi took a deep breath, as the train carried him ever closer to Juuban.


	8. Holding On

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Special thanks again to Lathis for his beta-read of this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Eight: Holding On

Sitting in the shade of a large tree, picking occasionally at her lunch, Mizuno Ami stole glance after glance across the schoolyard, wondering what the group of girls clustered over there were talking about.

Normally, in such a situation, she would have just chastised herself for being nosy. Then she would have finished her food, and spent the rest of the lunch period with her head buried in a textbook, using her studies to distract herself from such intrusive curiosity about other people's business.

This time, however, there was an added twist. Although the bulk of the conversation was unintelligible from where she was sitting, she did manage to catch the occasional outburst. One of which had contained the words "Sailor Senshi."

She took a deep breath, then let it out again. Even after nearly a month of fighting youma, she still found it hard on occasion to connect her day-to-day existence with the idea that she _herself_ was Sailor Mercury, one of the mysterious warriors of love and justice that her classmates talked about in such awed voices. Sometimes it felt so alien to her—like Sailor Mercury had to be some other girl, someone distinct from Ami the boring bookworm.

And yet, knowing what her classmates' subject of discussion was, she found herself straining to hear more. She stole another glance. A few of the girls seemed to be laughing derisively, while others were just shaking their heads in apparent disbelief. Ami frowned trying to interpret the information. That wasn't the usual reaction to discussions about the Senshi.

At least... she _hoped_ it wasn't. Certainly that hadn't been her experience of such conversations, but—

"They're probably talking about that weird boy Chizuko saw on the way into school."

_"Aaah!"_

Ami jerked in shock, the motion almost sending her lunch flying through the air. Barely catching it in time, she whirled her head around to see who had spoken so unexpectedly.

The thick glasses of Usagi's friend, Umino Gurio, peered back at her. Seeing who it was, Ami began to get her breathing under a bit better control. She had heard of Umino's reputation for popping out of nowhere with some random fact, gossip or rumor that the odd boy had somehow managed to ferret out. She had even observed him doing it to Usagi a few times, in the weeks since she had been drawn into the orbit of the friendly blonde girl. This was, however, the first time it had happened to _her_.

"I noticed you were watching them talking," Umino clarified helpfully. "Chizuko has been telling everybody that same story all day today. She thinks it's the funniest thing ever."

By then, Ami had managed to compose herself enough to realize the implications of what Umino had just said. "You... noticed?" she asked hesitantly, hoping she hadn't been too transparent in her... well, spying.

Umino shrugged, completely oblivious to her discomfort. "Well, sure. It was kinda obvious, the way you kept staring over at them."

The blue-haired girl flushed embarrassedly, hanging her head a little. Then, after a moment, she glanced back up. As long as Umino was here... "What boy is she talking about? And... what does he have to do with the Sailor Senshi?"

Umino's face split into a wide grin. "Well," he began. "It actually _is_ pretty funny..."

* * *

For a few, long seconds, the scene at the Tendo home remained frozen in place. Mousse watched the attacking youma carefully, taking in the details of her new form. The ghastly, corpse-like body. The dark robe. The strange, wings-outstretched headpiece with the dark red gem at its center.

The hidden weapons master smiled humorlessly. If nothing else, she would be a lot easier to attack looking like this than as a little girl.

He kept a tight grip on the chain that held the Darkmistress' arm away from Ryouga. At the same time, he prepared himself to dodge if she decided to target _him_ instead. His ribcage protested violently at the thought of rapid movement, but he silenced it with only a small grimace.

Then, on the floor, he saw Genma's prone body stir a little bit out of the corner of his eye. An added measure of hope filled the nearsighted martial artist. If the older martial artist could re-enter the fight... If they could triple-team this monster...

Without warning, the Darkmistress lifted her unchained hand. Not even bothering to look down at Genma, she discharged a burst of crimson lightning into the heavyset martial artist, plowing him back in a furrow through the floor.

Immediately, Mousse wrenched at the chain connecting them, trying to off-balance the enemy. Simultaneously, his other arm swung around to hurl a half-dozen throwing knives from his sleeve. The Darkmistress spun into a crouch, slipping underneath the blades, then leapt to the side as Ryouga's fist crashed down where she had just been.

With a snarl the lost boy lunged after her, raining down punches with ferocious intensity. The Darkmistress gave ground under the assault, parrying, weaving between the attacks, while at the same time disentangling the chain from around her wrist.

Ignoring the protests of his body, Mousse thrust his arm out sharply, a long battle spear extending out of his sleeve. Grabbing hold of it, he twirled it into a throwing grip and hurled it at the enemy youma.

The Darkmistress ducked low under one of Ryouga's punches, then launched herself away, backflipping her body so that she was horizontal in midair as the spear hissed centimeters above her. Then she grabbed the weapon, whipping it over her head and planting the spearhead in the floor. Using it as a vault, she slammed both her feet into Ryouga's face, sending him flying backward while she completed her flip.

Still in midair, she pulled the spear free and hurled it right back at Mousse. The hidden weapons master dove headlong out of the way—but even then he barely made it in time. He let out a short cry of pain as his body landed.

Pulling himself back to his hands and knees, he looked up... to see that the Darkmistress was already targeting him, that accursed lightning building around her hands, a smile spread across her face.

Then she fired. Mousse's eyes widened as the crimson energy bore down on him, desperately willing himself to dodge. But his body was too sluggish, too unresponsive—

—and then a yellow-and-black blur tackled him from the side, the two boys tumbling end over end as the Darkmistress' attack tore through the space they had just vacated, as well as the wall behind it. They righted themselves quickly, Ryouga to a light crouch, Mousse only to one knee, clutching at his side.

Angrily, the Joketsuzoku warrior drove his fist into the floor. _This is absurd!_ he thought, in utter frustration. _As injured as I am... I'm barely more than deadweight against an enemy like her!_

Even as he tried to come up with some way to make up for his handicap, he caught some movement to his right. It was the other youma, Beneda, creeping over to them. She looked as terrified as anyone Mousse had ever seen, arms shaking slightly, but she managed at least to speak. "Wh- what should we do?" she asked Ryouga, her voice shaky. "What _can_ we do?"

Ryouga licked his lips, his gaze never once straying from their opponent. The Darkmistress, for her part, was regarding the three of them amusedly, expectantly. Residual flickers of lightning were still arcing between her fingers as she and the lost boy sized each other up.

Then Mousse saw Ryouga's jaw set. "I'm going after her," he murmured in an undertone. "Beneda, you grab Kasumi. Mousse, you find Mr. Tendo, and then grab him and Mr. Saotome. Get them someplace safe. And then..." His lip twisted into a pained look. "Then... find Ranma."

Mousse glanced over at the creature facing them, then back to Ryouga. "Are you really sure you can last that long against her? Alone?"

The lost boy snorted, almost convincingly. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "You just hurry. Ranma'll be pissed if I've already beaten her before you get back."

The hidden weapons master took one more look at the enemy. "Yeah..." he said at last. "Yeah, I'll hurry."

Ryouga nodded—then burst out of his crouch, hurtling toward the Darkmistress in a blur of speed. The youma's hands shot out, unleashing twin bursts of lightning at him, but he angled to the side at the last second, diving into a roll that, in turn, became a leg sweep.

The Darkmistress jumped over the low attack, but Ryouga sprang after her, managing to grab her by the arm and slam his shoulder into her chest. His charge plowed them both through one of the kitchen walls, and out of sight.

Instantly, Mousse was running for the hallway. Dashing through one of the doors, he sprinted as fast as he could in his injured state for the family room, looking all around for signs of the Tendo patriarch. Even as he searched, he could hear the sounds of violent combat coming from the adjoining rooms—loud crashes, battle cries, the sizzling sound of the Darkmistress' lightning.

In a matter of seconds, Mousse located Soun—lying unconscious, half-embedded in one of the exterior walls. Quickly, Mousse flung him over one shoulder, and began to race back toward the kitchen.

A sudden flare of his danger sense was his only warning. He checked his run, leaping backward—and the next instant, the lost boy's body came crashing headlong through the wall and into the hallway, right where Mousse would have been. "Ryouga!" the nearsighted martial artist yelled.

Ryouga, for his part, scrambled gamely back to his feet. "Don't worry!" he shouted back. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of her tech-"

His sentence was cut off as the Darkmistress shot through the hole his body had created, slamming her fist into Ryouga's face with enough force to drive his head into the far wall. She followed that with a punch to his gut, doubling him over. But he managed to trap her arm before she could retract it, pulling her into a head butt. Then, grabbing her, he hurled her bodily back into the room they had come from.

Only then did he turn to Mousse. _"Go on!"_ he yelled. _"Get out of here!"_ Then, without waiting for a reply, he charged in after the Darkmistress.

Mousse obeyed, grimly aware that every second counted. He knew that the best chance for killing this thing was to bring more fighters as quickly as possible. Still, even as he resumed his run toward the kitchen, even as he heard the sounds of combat resume once more behind him, he felt an apprehension building in the pit of his stomach.

An apprehension that—one way or another—it would all be over by the time help finally arrived...

* * *

Most people in the world can usually be relied on to have a _roughly_ similar set of things that would make them nervous. Most people would agree that facing down a deadly, energy-draining monster from another dimension would make them nervous. Most people would also agree that merely skipping school would make them much _less_ nervous than that.

Mizuno Ami was not most people.

The blue-haired young girl was perfectly capable of keeping her composure even in the midst of a pitched youma battle. She had proven it time and time again. But now she was glancing furtively from side to side, hoping desperately that no one she knew saw her as she engaged in something she had never—_ever_—even considered doing before in her life.

_I suppose this is what comes with the duties of a Sailor Senshi,_ she thought philosophically. It didn't do much to quell the feelings of guilt gnawing at her, though. Still, she continued to remind herself of what the stakes were in their fight. If there was something to this rumor, it ought to be investigated.

But even so... She sighed, shaking her head. _Skipping school!_

She would have liked to have done this _after_ school, of course, but there was no telling how long the boy would remain where he was. Especially if he attracted _other_ attention before then...

Still, if everything went right—if the boy was still in the same area that Umino had told her he was in—she hoped that she could make it back before the lunch period was over. She increased the speed of her already-hurried walk, continuing to glance around, searching.

Then she rounded a corner... and there he was.

She had known essentially what to expect, and yet still found herself unprepared for the sight. The boy looked older than her, probably in high school, but his current circumstances more than robbed him of any dignity the age difference might have afforded.

He was wandering up and down the block, apparently at random. Wrapped around him was a makeshift sandwich board, of the kind often used to advertise stores or sales. In this case, however, the message it held was much more interesting. The front side read simply, in large black text: "SAILOR SENSHI, I MUST MEET WITH YOU." And the back, visible when he turned: "I HAVE IMPORTANT INFORMATION ABOUT THE YOUMA."

He continued to walk his meandering route, often drawing amused glances and even snickers from the passers-by. But he continued on, a forlorn expression on his face. That, combined with his dark-ringed eyes and pasty complexion, gave him a particularly woeful look.

"So I see you heard about this too."

Ami whirled, heart thudding in her chest... and saw who it was that had spoken, belatedly recognizing the voice as she did. "Rei!"

Clad in the uniform of her own school, with her long ebony hair cascading down her back, Hino Rei cut a compelling figure, as usual. Ami found it... a little bit intimidating, to be honest—the air of conviction, of decisiveness, that often seemed to blaze around the girl who had so recently awakened as Sailor Mars.

Taking a calming breath, Ami nodded. "Ah, yes. A... friend of mine at school mentioned it. I thought it should be looked into." She spoke tentatively, feeling out the conversation as she went. Since Rei went to a different school, Ami had much less experience with the new Senshi than she had with Usagi, and most of what she _did_ have had been in the context of their "Senshi meetings."

But here there was no Luna to mediate, no Usagi take the center of the conversation. No script, no routine. It was simply Rei and her, and she was having to improvise.

_I wonder what she thinks of me?_ Ami asked herself wistfully. _Someone as forceful and confident as she is... I must seem so... pale to her._

Rei, for her part, was now looking intently at the boy. "I see..." she said at last. Then she turned back to Ami. "It could be a trap, of course."

"I considered that." Seeing the chance to slip into the relative comfort of lecture-mode, Ami jumped at it. "But it doesn't fit with our enemies' tactics so far. Jadeite has always favored complicated plans, and concealed traps that highlight his own cleverness in setting them up. I don't think his pride would allow him to resort to something so..." She trailed off, trying to think of a polite way to describe the boy's efforts.

"...pathetic?" supplied Rei bluntly. "Well, you've faced him more than I have, so I'll trust your judgment. Still, I'm surprised you didn't bring meatball-head along, just in case."

Ami flushed a little. "I... didn't think it was necessary," she told the other girl. It had been enough of a moral struggle for her to skip school _herself_. Contributing to Usagi neglecting her studies even more than she already did was where she drew the line.

Together, the two girls left the main street, making their way to an isolated spot where they could spend a moment without being seen.

_"Mars Power, Make Up!"_

_"Mercury Power, Make Up!"_

* * *

The Darkmistress watched, smiling a predatory smile, as the human circled her warily.

His allies had already fled; locked in battle with this one, there had been little she could have done to prevent it. But it was of little consequence. She only really needed one prisoner to interrogate... and this one would be perfect.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the human darted in on the attack, fists blurring. The punches led to a kick, which led in turn to a jump spin kick, each one punctuated by a fierce battle cry.

_Not as subtle as the fat one was..._ she thought, as she deflected his blows. _But he more than makes up for it in ferocity._ The bald human had attacked her with more skill—but there had been a hesitation there as well, an instinctual reluctance to put himself at risk. A fatal flaw that it had been child's play to exploit.

This one, though... The Darkmistress licked her lips hungrily with her rotted tongue. _This_ one was a creature of battle. He threw himself at her relentlessly, beating on her defenses with astonishing strength. She smiled, giddy in spite of herself. The _strong_ ones were always the most delicious to destroy. To see their strength, their wills, their very _souls_ ruined beyond repair... it was like taking a priceless, irreplaceable work of art and smashing it to pieces.

Weathering the human's assault, the youma watched patiently for her opening. And soon enough, she found it. Her fist lashed out triumphantly, the human's guard too far out of position to be able to stop it...

Her eyes widened in surprise when he didn't even try. They each slammed their fists into each others' faces in a simultaneous exchange of blows, each of them sent reeling away by the impact.

A laugh escaped the Darkmistress' lips. _He intentionally took a hit, simply for the chance to strike at me at the same time..._ she thought, impressed. Quickly, though, she regained her balance, looking over to where the human stood.

He was already back in his stance, watching her. He rubbed his jaw a little, gingerly, but otherwise showed little sign of pain from the attack. In fact... he seemed remarkably unhurt on the whole, considering how much she had been beating on him.

"I see..." she said lazily. "So _that's_ your power. A particular resistance to damage..."

The human only glared in reply, beginning to circle her again. The Darkmistress began circling as well, the two of them watching each other intently. She had to admit, it was a deviously simple strategy. Between his durability and his phenomenal strength when his attacks did land, it would be a challenge to outlast someone like that in straight hand-to-hand.

She smirked. _Tempting... but I don't have all day,_ she thought. _Time to try something different._

The Darkmistress crossed her arms in front of her, hooking her fingers like claws, red lighting beginning to build around her hands. The human tensed, obviously prepared to dodge around her energy blasts.

But this time, she had something a bit more effective in mind for him.

Bending her power to her will, she focused it, molded it. Soon the red lightning stretched all along her forearms, forming a crackling, pulsating pair of gauntlets. Then she looked over at the human, making a small beckoning gesture.

Growling, the human obliged, charging toward her with a vicious punch. The Darkmistress deftly parried—

—and the instant their arms touched, the human cried out in pain, the gauntlets discharging magical energy into him with a bright crimson flash and a delightful sizzling sound.

He attacked with his other arm, only to have her casually repeat her defense, with the same results. Angrily, he launched yet another high punch at her—then suddenly changed it to a low kick at her leg instead.

But the Darkmistress was not taken in by the feint. She dropped to one knee, meeting the kick with her arm, triggering another burst of crimson energy. Then, as the human staggered back, off balance, she swung with her other hand, driving her gauntlet straight into his stomach with all her might.

The human screamed as her power engulfed him, his body convulsing, thrown backward into and end-over-end roll. The Darkmistress cackled madly at the sight, rising to her feet and stalking after her prey.

* * *

For what seemed like the millionth time this morning, Gosunkugi made his way down the block that he had chosen to stage his little demonstration on. For what seemed like the millionth time, he struggled over his lack of success, wondering if he should try his luck somewhere else. But for what seemed like the millionth time, he decided against it. This was a nice, busy street, and his plan depended on word-of-mouth spreading. Besides, what if he moved, and the Senshi showed up at the old location?

Still, the needs of his plan notwithstanding, the number of people watching was making this a more agonizingly embarrassing experience with each passing minute. For someone who had spent most of his life completely unnoticed, he was now having that reversed in a truly miserable way. He had lost count of the number of disbelieving looks that he had gotten from the endless passers-by.

_This is stupid,_ he thought dejectedly. _There's no way someone like me could actually do something like this. I should just—_

"Excuse me?"

Gosunkugi turned... and abruptly, his jaw dropped. His eyes bulged. It was them.

It was _them_.

It was _them!_

He stood there like an idiot, gaping, unable to say a word. Every single speech he had planned out in anticipation of this moment had evacuated his brain completely. Had he ever _really_ believed that this would happen?

Except it had.

"Um, excuse me?" the red-wearing Senshi—_Sailor Mars!_—repeated.

Even then, Gosunkugi couldn't quite formulate a reply, caught up as he was in the moment. They were here! They were real, and beautiful, and magical, and... and...

...and short.

It was this realization that first began to nudge him out of his rapturous trance, back into reality. The Sailor Senshi in his imagination had been goddess-like beings of eldritch power and unfathomable wisdom. But there was something incongruous between that idea, and the fact that he had to look slightly _down_ to meet their eyes.

_They're... younger than I am..._ he thought, a little unsettled. In fact, they didn't look any older than fourteen.

And he was going to ask them to kill a monster?

But then he shook himself. Didn't people always say that appearances could be deceiving in magic? Maybe... yes, maybe this was just the _guise_ that the Senshi chose to take on, as a sign of their pure and innocent hearts!

Anyway, they were starting to give him some very strange looks, and he knew he needed to say _something._ "Um, Senshi!" he exclaimed. "I... I have come... with a warning! Which is very important... which you must hear... which I must tell you..."

Even as he babbled, he realized that they were beginning to draw a crowd in earnest. It formed a ring around them, hushed whispers coming from all sides, wondering whether this was actually the real thing.

Sailor Mars glanced around at the situation forming, pursed her lips, then turned back to him. "We need to take this someplace else," she said crisply. "Somewhere they can't follow." Before Gosunkugi had a chance to react, she pulled his sandwich board off of him, handing it to Sailor Mercury. Then she picked him up, slung him over her shoulder, and leaped up into the air, followed closely by the other Senshi.

They landed atop a nearby building, then began roofhopping for a little while, until finally they came to a stop. Sailor Mars then deposited the hyperventilating boy on the roof they were currently standing on. "Your sign said that you had information about the youma?" she asked him.

Gosunkugi gasped for breath, still in shock over what had just happened. But eventually, he managed to recover himself enough to speak. "Y- yes..." he stammered out, steeling himself to give what was probably the most important message of his life. "I... I found one! A youma! Not here... but hiding over where I live, in Nerima! And... and even worse, she's got a whole bunch of dangerous fighters protecting her!"

* * *

Ryouga half-ran, half-staggered through what remained of the hallways of the Tendo home, wracked with pain from the damage he had taken. All hope of offense had been abandoned; his only remaining thought was survival.

A flash of his danger sense made him dive for the ground, just as a crimson bolt of energy ripped through the air at him from behind. He was not quite fast enough to avoid it. The attack hit him in his left shoulder, ripping a scream from between his clenched teeth as he was knocked forward, skidding across the floor.

Grimly, he tried to fight his way back to his feet. His left arm wasn't responding well; it was numb, twitching spasmodically. Still, he managed to get one knee under him. Then both of them. Then—

Then he felt the Darkmistress' fingers on his head, digging into his hair and hoisting him up by it. Before he could react, she used the grip to smash him face first into one of the hallway walls. Switching hands, she did the same with the opposite wall. Finally, she drove him facedown onto the floor, pinning him there with her knee. "Got you..." she said victoriously.

Ryouga struggled to throw her off, but he was too weak, had too little leverage. The Darkmistress ignored his efforts, continuing to talk. "I'll admit, you gave me quite the workout... but now you're mine. We're going to have so much _fun_ together, human. So many of your allies' secrets to uncover. And so much time to do it in..."

The lost boy twisted his head, trying to look over his shoulder at the creature on his back. "Like hell!" he snarled. "I'd never tell a freak like you anything!"

At that, the Darkmistress began to laugh hysterically, as though he had just said the funniest thing in the world. "Oh, it's been _so_ long since anyone has been foolish enough to say that to me..." she said amusedly. "But you _will_ break. You all break, in the end."

Ryouga made an awkward swing with his right arm, trying to hit her, but she caught his wrist and pinned it back down by his head. Then she leaned in even closer, her putrid breath hot on his cheek. "I promise you, human," she whispered. "By the end of the first week of torture, you will be ready to give me every secret you ever knew for my promise to kill you and end your suffering."

The lost boy glared, gathering as much of his strength as he could. "You want a secret?" he asked. "All right, try this one! _Bakusai Tenketsu!_"

He stabbed out with a single finger of his trapped hand, giving the floor a sharp tap. Instinctively, the Darkmistress turned her head to see what he was trying to do—

—and howled, as she took the explosion of wooden shrapnel right in the face. Immediately Ryouga twisted, breaking out of her hold and slamming his elbow around into the side of her head.

The Darkmistress staggered away, off-balance, clutching at her eyes. But Ryouga grabbed her by the collar of her cloak, wrenching her back toward him—right into a punch with his other hand.

He did not let up, not for a moment. Each blow led into the next as he pounded away at her with every bit of his remaining strength. He knew full well that this opening was his last chance. He attacked and attacked and attacked, each desperate blow driving his foe farther back. Soon he had her up against a wall. And then, with a devastating kick, he sent her crashing through it and into the Tendo yard.

Quickly, he followed her through the hole, and gave a fanged smile at the sight that met his eyes. The Darkmistress was on her feet... but only just, staggering as she tried to collect herself from the savage beating she had received. The lost boy laughed; the tables had turned.

Still, he wasn't about to take any chances. Gathering himself, he charged toward her, accumulating as much momentum as he could for a finishing blow. He raised his fist as he raced toward her, swinging it around in a deadly attack aimed right for the head of—

_—Akane!_

The instant before his punch landed, the Darkmistress' form blurred... and suddenly it wasn't the youma standing there. It was the youngest Tendo, looking up at him with terrified eyes as the attack hurtled toward her.

There was no time whatsoever for any kind of conscious thought. Ryouga acted purely on reflex, twisting his arm away. It ripped past her ear, missing by millimeters as the lost boy stumbled, thrown completely off-balance by the maneuver.

Completely off-balance... and wide open. "Akane's" face twisted into a sadistic smile, as she latched both her hands around his throat, hoisting him up into the air and channeling a huge surge of crimson lightning into him.

* * *

Sailor Mars frowned. "And you say this youma is just operating openly?" she asked. "What is she doing? Draining energy?"

Gosunkugi shrugged uncomfortably, the question giving him an uncomfortable reminder of just how little information he had actually gathered about the situation before running off to find the Senshi. "Well... she didn't look like she was doing anything like that..." he said, hoping his uncertainty didn't show. "Mostly she was just... talking with a bunch of those fighters. Probably getting them to help out her side."

"A youma recruiting humans? By talking with them?" There was a distinct note of skepticism in Sailor Mars' voice, one that made Gosunkugi wilt a little, his mind racing fruitlessly for some way to convince them.

"Are you sure she was really a youma?" Sailor Mercury asked gently. "Maybe she was just... someone dressing up? Like cosplay?"

"No!" protested Gosunkugi. "She was a youma, I'm certain of it! She had green skin all over, and her hair was all shiny metal, and—"

He broke off suddenly, realizing that his words had had an unexpectedly profound effect on the Senshi. Their eyes had widened in almost perfect unison, exchanging a quick, startled glance before looking back to him. Even then, he could tell that their minds were elsewhere, following some thought or memory he was not privy to. From the dark look on Sailor Mars' face, he very much doubted it was a pleasant one.

Sailor Mercury spoke up, her face more reserved and difficult to read. "Yes, that... does sound like it could be a youma. Do you have the address that you saw her at?"

Gosunkugi nodded furiously, not fully understanding what had just happened, but in no mood to question it. "Yes! Yes, I do! Right here!" He thrust a piece of paper toward them that he had prepared earlier, with not just the address, but also a convenient map that he had drawn, complete with a large "X" signifying the target.

"Thank you..." said Sailor Mercury, accepting it. Gosunkugi felt a small thrill course through him as their fingers touched. He could hardly believe any of this. He had done it! He had actually done it!

Sailor Mars spoke up again. "And the humans that are living there... you say they're helping the youma?"

"Yes! Well... partly." Gosunkugi was hasty to amend himself. "The family that owns it are good people. I can't imagine Aka— any of the Tendos helping an evil creature deliberately. They _must_ be misled somehow." Then he scowled. "The one you _really_ have to watch out for is Saotome. I wouldn't put anything past him, and he's the most dangerous one there."

Sailor Mars frowned. "Why single him out?"

"Because that's the kind of person he _is!_" Gosunkugi said, clenching his fist. "He's all about being powerful, and rubbing his strength in other people's faces, and stealing the things that are most precious from you, and then not even appreciating them!" His eyes blazed as he spoke.

The two Senshi exchanged glances, neither looking particularly convinced. "We'll certainly look into this," Sailor Mercury said diplomatically. "Thank you very much for bringing it to our attention."

Gosunkugi nodded eagerly. "You're welcome!" he said. "Just please, do it quickly. Their kind of evil... it needs to be dealt with!"

* * *

Ryouga screamed, convulsing, as the currents of crimson magic ripped through his body. The pain was unimaginable, like nothing he had ever experienced. On and on it went, without any sign of ceasing.

He swung out at his foe, but his blow glanced off—he no longer had the strength to hurt her. He could only thrash around, trying futilely to escape her grasp. Then, after what seemed like an eternity—he could not have said how long it actually was—the lightning stopped, and he sagged limply.

Slowly, agonizingly, he managed to raise his head, inch by inch, to look her in the eye with a bloodshot, murderous glare. He realized that she was breathing hard; the sustained attack had evidently drained her.

The Darkmistress looked back, an expression of mild shock on her face. "You _are_ a resilient one, aren't you?" she asked. "What does it take to put you _down?_"

Ryouga gave her no reply. She shrugged. "Not that it matters. I'll _enjoy_ finding out the answer. Scream for me some more." And with that, she gathered her strength and unleashed her power once again.

And the lost boy did scream, clutching with both his hands at the Darkmistress' arms, trying to dislodge them. But he could not. He screamed and clawed and writhed, and over all of it he could hear his tormentor's mad laughter.

But then, in a last, sudden flash of desperation, he had an idea. Grabbing the youma's arm with one hand, he reached behind his head with the other, ripping free a bandana. With a simple thought, the piece of cloth straightened out into a razor-sharp blade.

Then he stabbed it straight through the Darkmistress' wrist, and twisted it.

The youma let out a howl of agony, flinging him violently away. His body skipped three times before finally sliding to a stop. Slowly lifting his head, he saw that his enemy was doubled over, clutching protectively at her skewered limb. _Heh,_ he thought vindictively. _Looks like she can't take it as well as she can dish it out..._

Still, he knew that it would not last forever—and he could barely _move_ anymore, let alone fight. _I have to think of something..._ he told himself, looking doggedly around for something, anything he could use. _She's going to be after me any second now... unless..._

But there _was_ still a chance, he realized. One last, crazy chance. It would most likely fail, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Gritting his teeth, pulling himself to his hands and knees, he began to crawl.

* * *

The Darkmistress cradled her arm, staring down in disbelief at the now-limp piece of cloth that now hung out of both sides of her wrist, as she tried to fight back the excruciating pain. _That... wretch!_ she thought furiously. _Exploding floors, bladed fabric... What will the creature use next?_

Straightening up, she turned over to where her foe had landed. He was down on all fours, crawling obliquely away from her. "Where do you think you're going?" she snarled, raising her uninjured arm and beginning to gather her lightning to it.

The human took a long look around him, then turned to face her, pulling himself up to one knee. "Shut up, freak," he managed to rasp out.

The Darkmistress' eyes flashed at his impertinence. "I will make you _suffer_ for wounding me, human. You will suffer like no one has ever suffered before, for as many years as I can possibly keep you alive."

But he only snorted. "You don't scare me," he shot back. "Go on! Take your best shot!"

_"Gladly!"_ Her face twisting into an expression of pure hatred, the Darkmistress fired down at the kneeling human, the bolt of lightning raging toward him.

He did not even try to dodge, merely crossed his arms protectively in front of himself. The blast caught them dead center, smashing them back into his chest. His body was plowed viciously into the ground, his path gouging out a long furrow in the earth, sending dirt flying through the air. Until, at last, he was slammed full-tilt into the pond in the middle of the yard, the impact creating a huge geyser.

The Darkmistress laughed at the destruction, feeling some amount of control return. She strode toward where her opponent's path had taken him, as water rained down around her. "So, human," she sneered, as she approached the lip of the ruined pond. "Do you still think—"

But suddenly she broke off, her eyes bulging in disbelief.

The human was _gone!_

Her mind raced, trying to comprehend it. One moment she had had him at her mercy, the next he had simply vanished into thin air! How had he done it? Invisibility? Teleportation?

The latter possibility caused her to whirl around, hand outstretched, red lighting crackling in her palm. But there was no sign of an attack from behind. She spun back and forth, her every move tense and alert, looking up and down, searching for where her foe could have gone. But it was all utterly fruitless.

Turning back to the remains of the pond, she noticed an oddity: the torn remains of the human's clothes were still there, floating scattered about the surface of the water. It puzzled the Darkmistress. If he had left, why leave his clothes behind?

Perhaps... perhaps she had overestimated his resilience, and accidentally killed him? But no, it was only youma whose bodies disintegrated immediately upon death. Humans didn't do that.

Then again, they didn't _really_ have any proof that these interlopers were actually human themselves...

Either way, she knew she had lost her chance to take any prisoners. Enemy reinforcements were no doubt on the way, and she was in no shape for another battle like that last one. A pained grimace crossed her face, her currently-useless hand sending throbs of unbearable agony up her arm. Slowly, she turned and began to walk away.

She had been denied today. But there _would_ be a reckoning. Even as she walked, she was planning out the force of youma that she would lead against these vermin to wreak her vengeance.

Playtime was over.

* * *

Back in her civilian form, Rei glanced over at Ami, wondering—not for the first time—just what the blue-haired girl was thinking.

She had grown quite accustomed to her other teammates, even in the short time since she had awakened. Luna she felt she understood quite well, and calling Usagi "obvious" was something of an understatement in her opinion.

But Ami... she was still very much an enigma. Quiet, calm, reserved... but incredibly intelligent. There were depths to her that Rei had not yet been able to fathom. And that unsettled her, just a little—while intriguing her at the same time.

_How does a genius like her see the rest of us?_ the dark-haired girl mused. _I wonder if it's something I could even understand._

Abruptly, Ami looked up. "I _knew_ that it was dangerous to just let her run off like that," she said, self-recrimination in her voice. "I should have said something more! If she's hurt anyone else because we didn't chase her..."

Rei sighed. "We made the best decision at the time," she said, trying to be reassuring for Ami's sake. To be honest, though, she was plagued with her own memories of that showdown. The youma's cruel sneer, the cold, gleaming blade pressed right up against the child's throat...

She shuddered. "Anyway, we can only go forward," she told the other girl firmly. "We need to tell Luna and Usagi the information that boy gave us. We'll figure out the next step from there."

"Yes..." Ami agreed. Then she glanced over at Rei. "Although I think he might not have been very... objective... in some of what he said."

A wry smile crossed Rei's face. "I agree..." she replied. "Still, it doesn't matter. We'll find out the truth for ourselves soon enough. And there's one thing, at least, I am sure of."

The Senshi of fire turned, looking out across the city, toward Nerima. "_This_ time, that youma won't escape."


	9. Caught Between

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Extra special thanks go out to Lathis this time; he caught a really crucial issue that was hampering this chapter severely. It really is a night-and-day difference thanks to his betaing input.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Caught Between

Rooftop after rooftop shot by under Ranma's pounding feet as he hurtled across them in a barely followable blur of red and black. He was breathing hard; he had started his run at an all-out sprint, and had not let up in the slightest since then.

His mind raced ahead of him, simultaneously calculating the most efficient route to his destination, and worrying about what he would find when he got there. If Beneda's description of the enemy's power had been accurate...

_Just hang on, you moron!_ he thought fiercely, trying to come up with a way to shave a few more seconds off his time.

Ukyo, Akane, Beneda, and the injured Mousse were all somewhere behind him, following, but he had quickly outstripped them. As he drew nearer and nearer to his goal, he began to imagine dozens of different plans of attack, depending on what condition Ryouga was in when he arrived.

Soon, the Tendo dojo came into view. Ranma rocketed down to street level as soon as he had a straight shot to the building, his feet skidding slightly on the pavement. Seconds later, he had reached the exterior wall of the compound, and he vaulted over it without hesitation.

Landing on the other side, he looked around. The signs of battle were obvious. There were all manner of gaping holes blasted in the structure of the Tendo home, and through them Ranma could see that the interior had been even more thoroughly wrecked. But for all that, he could hear no sounds of combat, only a dead silence that sent a chill into his stomach. "Ryouga!" he yelled, hoping against hope that the quiet meant the lost boy had managed to defeat his foe. _"Ryouga!"_

No answer. Breaking into a run again, Ranma dashed into the house, racing up and down the hallways, searching through the ransacked rooms. He found no sign of anyone—only the damage left by what had clearly been a vicious battle.

His worry mounting, Ranma finished his search of the lower floor, then ran back out of the building. A quick leap carried him to the top of the house, and he used the vantage point to scan his surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He noticed that there seemed to be a bit of damage outside as well. Evidently, the fight had moved out there at some point. In fact...

Ranma looked closer. In fact... there was only one main scar carved in the earth, a scar that led _directly_ into... Feeling a sudden surge of hope, the pigtailed fighter jumped back down from the roof, racing over to the remains of the Tendo koi pond.

And sure enough, there he was. A little black piglet, soaking wet and looking half-dead. It appeared that he hadn't even had the strength to climb fully out of the pond, floating semi-conscious at the edge, half-in, half-out, with the pond's koi swimming agitatedly around him.

Ranma let out a long, relieved sigh. "You really _do_ live to make my life interesting, don't you P-chan?" he asked rhetorically, reaching down and plucking the small creature up by his bandanna collar.

* * *

Beneda staggered to a halt at the gate in the Tendo compound wall, leaning on it for a moment while she gasped for breath. Ahead of her, Ukyo and Akane were running for the house itself. Mousse could be heard coming up somewhere behind her; somehow, he had managed to keep pace with them, despite the damage he had sustained.

Pushing off the gate, Beneda followed after the two human girls, looking everywhere for signs of the lost boy. She wasn't sure why—it seemed _impossible_ to her that Ryouga could have survived a battle with one of the most terrifying forces in the Dark Kingdom short of the Generals themselves. But her protector had surprised her before, and she found that there was now a stubborn nugget of hope inside her that refused to give up entirely.

Up ahead, the two girls entered the house itself, and then Beneda heard twin cries of "Ryouga!" Fear gripped at the youma, and she increased her speed, bursting through the door herself. And stopped dead at the sight that greeted her.

She barely noticed Ranma standing off to one side; all her attention was focused on Ryouga. He sat there, propped up against one of the few walls that were still standing, as though its support was the only thing keeping him upright. But he was alive. Beneda gaped, relief washing over her. He was _alive!_ He had done it! Somehow, the crazy human had done it again!

Exhaustedly, Ryouga raised his head, giving Beneda a wan smile. "I'm sorry if I worried you," he told her.

The youma laughed, a little unsteadily. "How... how did you _do_ it?" she asked, still not quite processing the reality. "In all the Dark Kingdom, there's no more feared youma! How did you beat her?"

Ryouga glanced to the side nervously, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head a few times, before the effort wore him out and his hand flopped back down. "Well... I didn't exactly _beat_ her..." he admitted. "I just fought her for a while, and then escaped when things started to get bad."

"Still, that's really amazing!" Akane said, sounding impressed. "How did you manage to get away from someone so powerful?"

"Yeah, P-chan, tell us!" interjected Ranma, his eyes wide and innocent. "How _did_ you manage to get away?"

Ryouga shot the pigtailed boy a deadly glare. "That's not really important," he said through gritted teeth. "I just got lucky, that's all."

Akane frowned, puzzledly, and opened her mouth as though she might have inquired more—but Ranma cut her off. "Yeah, well, _I_ ain't planning on running away if _I_ cross paths with her," he said. "So spill. What kind of techniques does she use?"

"Yes, Hibiki, tell us..." Surprised, Beneda glanced behind her, to see that Mousse had quietly entered the room while her attention had been focused on Ryouga. He was now looking at the lost boy with smoldering intensity. "Did you find any vulnerabilities during your fight? Any weaknesses in her style that could be exploited? Anything we can use to kill her?"

Ryouga shook his head. "No. Not really. She's extremely skilled, and her power is... something incredible. She can shoot those lightning bolts at you, but she can also make it into some kind of... lightning armor around her arms. I couldn't figure out how to defeat it; she would just fry me with it whenever I tried to block one of her attacks, or whenever she blocked one of mine."

"She _did_ get overconfident, though. She thought she had me. But I managed to catch her off-guard with my Bakusai Tenketsu, and I actually had her on the ropes for a little while. Then..." His face darkened, and his voice trailed off.

It was Ukyo who finally broke the silence. "Then what?"

"She used some kind of trick," Ryouga said. "Instead of seeing her, she made me see..." He looked down at the floor, flushing. "...s- someone special to me. I hesitated, and..." There was little need to say more.

Ranma's eyes flickered over toward Akane for just an instant, any good humor suddenly gone from his features. "How did the youma know to use... _that_ person on you?" he demanded urgently.

"I don't know." Ryouga hung his head. "Maybe... it was just a guess."

"No." Everyone in the room turned to look at Beneda, who continued to speak. "No, she doesn't need to guess."

"What do you mean?" asked Ryouga, looking up with a frown.

"It's... one of the rumors they tell about her powers," Beneda responded. "They say that she can create illusions that reflect the soul of any living creature. No matter _who_ she faces, she can always conjure the image of whatever they treasure most."

The five human warriors digested the information, exchanging glances as they looked uneasily from one to another. At length, Ranma crossed his arms. "Well now that I know about it, I'll be ready the next time she comes calling!"

_Next time..._ The two words were like twin blocks of ice, swiftly crushing any sense of relief that Beneda might have felt. She cursed herself for a fool in the first place. What was wrong with her? She had been so... caught up in Ryouga's unexpected survival that she had lost sight of just how bad the situation still was!

Ryouga hadn't even won. He had _escaped_—and only barely, from the look of it. The Darkmistress would no doubt be enraged that her fun had been spoiled, and Beneda shuddered at the thought of the vengeance that the leader of the Black Section could call down. The next attack, the Darkmistress would certainly not be alone.

_I didn't expect things to escalate this fast!_ she thought, trying to fight down the rising tide of panic. _I'm running out of time!_ She still clung desperately to the hope that she could orchestrate the Senshi's downfall before they were overrun... but that hope was growing increasingly slim. She certainly didn't know how to find _them_; it had always been the Senshi that found the youma. Except they _hadn't_ found her yet, and now it looked as though she would be dead before that happened.

Even as she tried to figure out what to do, the conversation around her was continuing. "We should head back to the school," Akane said. "I'm worried about Kasumi and our parents."

Ranma nodded. "Yeah... I don't like leaving them there, even with Kuno watching them. If that Darkmistress chick figures out where they went to and decides to pay a visit herself..." He shook his head. "We gotta get them somewhere safe."

Mousse raised an eyebrow. "And just where exactly is that, Saotome?" he asked. "Aside from the fact that our enemies will likely make another attack here, I would say that this building is _itself_ a hazard to life and limb at this point." He punctuated his observation by delivering a solid punch to one of the remaining walls, and was rewarded by an ominous groan of timbers that caused everyone else to wince apprehensively.

"Well... what do _you_ suggest?" shot back Ranma. "There's way too many people around the school, and there's no way in hell that we're going back to the Nekohanten."

A strained silence fell... broken suddenly when Ukyo spoke up. "What about my place?"

Everyone turned toward her, Beneda's eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected offer. Ranma's face, on the other hand, took on a concerned frown. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "If they do manage to track us there, they'll know where you live too. We'll be leading them right to your home."

Ukyo's reply was to flash a smile. "So what?" she asked. "You need a place to stay, and it might even throw this 'Darkmistress' off the trail for a while." She looked around at each of them in turn. "After all, we're all in this together, aren't we?"

Heads nodded in agreement all around the room. Beneda followed suit, hoping that her smile didn't look as forced as it felt.

Glancing uncomfortably around, she happened to meet Mousse's eyes. And, for just the briefest instant, she saw a surprisingly familiar flinch cross his features, as the two of them were included in that circle of trust. In that moment, she felt a bizarre sense of _kinship_ with the hidden weapons master... made all the more perverse if her suspicions about his actual goals were correct.

"All right then," Ranma said. "Let's get moving before any more youma show up. Thanks, Ucchan."

Ukyo positively beamed at the words.

* * *

Hours later, Saotome Genma dragged himself up stair after stair, toward the second floor of Ukyo's okonomiyaki shop. It was not easy going; each step he took sent a burst of pain across his chest, as the injuries he had sustained in the recent battle made their presence known. He grimaced, but continued onward.

Eventually he reached the upper level. Turning to one side, he quietly slid open the door that led to the room where they had set up camp, and for a moment simply looked in without speaking.

The sight sent memories of the "Gambling King" fiasco running through his mind. The Kuonji girl had taken them into her home back then as well... which in and of _itself_ had been extremely crowded. This time they had three additional bodies to house, and from the way the bedrolls had been laid out, it looked as though they would be packed in like sardines.

But cramped living conditions were the least of his worries right now. And he looked back with yearning nostalgia on the days when his foremost concern had been a dimwitted hustler with a face like a playing card.

At the moment, the room before him had only one occupant: Ranma. That was why Genma had seized this chance; he needed to talk to his son in private. The rest of the defenders were downstairs, the sounds of their conversation jumbling together in an unintelligible murmur as it drifted up toward them. To all intents and purposes they would be alone.

And yet, now that he had come to it, the older man tried to put off announcing his presence for as long as he could. He watched Ranma, who was bent over the backpack that he had taken from the Tendo home. It contained what possessions and gear he'd thought worth bringing, and it looked as though he was doing a bit of unpacking.

Finally, Genma cleared his throat. Ranma glanced back over his shoulder at the noise. "Hey, pop," he said. "Didn't know you were up and around again."

Genma forced a smile—the con artist in him looking for a chance to shore up his credibility before he had to broach the actual subject. "Hah!" he laughed. "You should know better! It takes more than that to keep your old man down!" He accompanied the words by thumping his chest with his fist, and almost concealed the wince of pain that resulted.

"Uh huh." Ranma gave his father a measured look, and Genma knew that he had seen through the bravado for what it was. It had been worth a shot... but honestly Genma hadn't really expected it to work. Not with how many times the boy had seen it before. "All right, pop. What is it?"

The older man shrugged, trying his best to affect an air of nonchalance. The key here, he decided, would be to ease into things gradually. "Well, son... I just wanted to commend you on how well you've handled this situation with the youma. You've gone well above and beyond the call of duty, and I'm very proud of you for that. Truly, _no one_ could ask for more of you. In fact..."

He would probably have gone on for much longer, but even as he spoke, he could see Ranma's face hardening. "You want us to abandon Beneda," the boy said bluntly.

Genma felt the nonchalant expression on his face crack, just a little. Still, he pressed on. "Son," he said, trying to make his voice sound as wise as he could. "I know you mean well, but really, I'm only thinking of what's best for _her_. After all, she'll never learn to stand on her own two feet if we keep sheltering her, will she? Just as the mother bird must drive her hatchlings from the nest, even though it pains her deeply to do so, we must also allow Beneda to—"

Ranma's jaw had dropped a little as he listened to his father's explanation. "I don't believe this..." he muttered. "So what happened to the responsibility of a marital artist to protect those in need? _Huh?_"

Genma felt his nonchalant expression crack even further. "Listen, boy," he snapped, his words speeding up. "You didn't see how powerful that... that _thing_ was! If _that's_ the kind of monster this 'Dark Kingdom' can send after us, then we're all in very serious trouble!"

"Yeah, and that's nothing compared to how much trouble Beneda'd be in without us!" shot back Ranma angrily, as he stepped in closer to Genma. "Weren't you _listening_ when Ryouga told us what that monster said she was going to do to whoever she caught? There's no way in _hell_ I'm going to hand Beneda over to someone as sick as that!"

A small flinch crossed Genma's face. "It's not that I don't feel sorry for the youma," he protested, holding up his hands. "It's just that we have to be practical. There are some things that you just can't fight against."

But even as he spoke, it was obvious to him that Ranma didn't understand... and that he _wouldn't_ understand, no matter what Genma said. It wasn't something that could be taught with words. Not like it had been taught to him, all those years ago.

"Can't fight them?" asked Ranma, his eyes blazing with determination. "Watch me. I'll find some way to kick their asses, no matter _what_ they send after us! But we ain't giving them Beneda!"

The elder Saotome opened his mouth to reply... only to find that he could think of nothing to say. There was a tiny wrench in his heart as he looked at his son, standing there, radiating defiance—an emotion that had been all but crushed in Genma's own soul.

No, he had never taught Ranma the most important lesson Happousai had taught him: that when you scoured away the philosophy from a man, and scoured away his fine-sounding morals, and scoured away his very pride itself... what lay under all of that was one simple question. Whether or not he would do what it took to survive.

And Saotome Genma had decided, sometime in those years of torture under their inescapable master... that he would.

He had never tried to bring Ranma to _that_ place, not in all their training together. Instead he had filled the boy's head with platitudes about "the duties of a martial artist" that some small, flickering part of him still believed, but was too weak to act on himself.

And now, because of that, his son was most likely going to die.

"I..." Genma began, trying to find some way to make Ranma see reason. But nothing was coming to him, and in the end, he fell back on a reflexively familiar tactic. Namely, putting the problem off. "Son, just... think it over, all right? We can talk again later, once you've had time to see this more clearly."

Ranma's only response was a snort that eloquently described what he thought the chances were of that ever happening. With that, he turned back to the backpack he had been fishing through.

His father watched him for a few more moments. It wasn't that he didn't feel sorry for the youma, he repeated to himself. He _would_ prefer that she get out of this alive. Just like he'd prefer that the Kuonji girl get out of this alive, and Tendo, and his daughters, and of course, Ranma.

But a man had to know his limits. There were some things you just couldn't fight against—some things that had to be fled, or hidden from, or appeased. He would have liked for as many people to survive as possible. But right now, the way things seemed to be going, it looked as though he might have trouble managing even himself.

He turned away, leaving Ranma to his unpacking. The boy was settling in, obviously prepared to stand by his friends and face this threat, come what may. It was, the older man reflected, the difference between them in a nutshell.

Genma's gear was still very much packed.

* * *

Meanwhile, one floor below, the rest of the small defending force bustled around the large grill in the center of the room as Ukyo prepared dinner for them.

Beneda marveled as she watched the young human work. The chef was like a dynamo, keeping the nine meals cooking while at the same time keeping up a conversation with Akane and occasionally yelling over at Ryouga to "stop moving, jackass, you're injured!" whenever the lost boy tried to get out of his seat and do something. The order was usually accompanied by a threatening brandish of her giant spatula.

Off to the side, the youma could see Soun wailing incoherently over Kasumi, great rivers of tears streaming down his cheeks. Kasumi, for her part, was trying her best to reassure her father that she was all right, but the bandage tied around her forehead seemed to keep setting him off.

Beneda had, at first, been shocked to see that Kasumi had managed to survive the Darkmistress's attack... at least, until Ryouga had told them in more detail what their enemy's _actual_ objective for the attack had been. The image of Kasumi in one of the Black Section's dreaded torture chambers appeared in Beneda's mind for a moment, and she shuddered at the thought.

In an effort to distract herself, she walked along the grill, passing by Mousse and Nabiki. The hidden weapons master was going on and on to the middle Tendo daughter about the undying love he had for her... although he seemed to be under the impression that he was talking to Shampoo. Nabiki, for her part, was mostly ignoring him, while the _real_ Shampoo—just arrived from getting off work—was watching them both amusedly.

Beneda went by all three of them, not interrupting, and took a seat next to Ryouga. "Um, hello," she offered hesitantly. "How are you feeling?"

The lost boy gave her a tired, fanged smirk. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "It'll take more than a few magic blasts to put me out of the picture. I just... need to rest for a little while, and I'll be fine."

Beneda nodded, fidgeting slightly in her seat. Looking over to where Ukyo was cooking, she noticed that the chef was only preparing enough human food for the humans to eat—and she realized that Ranma or Ryouga must have told her what they themselves had guessed earlier about her eating habits. So that meant Ukyo, too, was now silently giving her space on her attempted deception.

A deception that she still hadn't had the courage to address openly with her protectors.

_It's better this way,_ she thought, firmly. _The less I explain, the less chance there is of making a mistake. I just need to keep it all up until the Senshi are dead. Then I can go back to the Dark Kingdom._ _Then things will go back to the way they used to be._

She focused on those thoughts as she looked around Ukyo's restaurant, trying _not_ to think of why "things going back to the way they used to be" had somehow sent a tiny current of _dismay_ seeping through her.

* * *

Sitting atop a small hill, nestled amidst a grove of trees, the Hikawa Shrine was ordinarily a place of peace and tranquility. This was, however, a bit less so when the three girls who were the Sailor Senshi met there. And it was _much_ less so when Tsukino Usagi, reluctantly drafted defender of love and justice, received news like she just had.

_"What?"_ Ami's announcement had been enough to get the blonde-haired Senshi of the Moon to pull her head out of the manga she had "borrowed" from Rei. "You mean... that youma we fought is in _Nerima_ now?"

"Yes, if this map is correct," answered Luna. The black moon cat was staring intently at the piece of paper. "Although I am worried about relying on this strange boy's information. It could still be a trap of some kind." She looked up at Ami and Rei, hoping that they could shed some more light onto the matter.

The two girls exchanged glances. "I didn't sense any dark energy from him," Rei offered first. "I don't think he was a youma—or even being controlled by one."

Ami nodded in agreement. "His behavior seemed very... unscripted. It would be difficult to fake something like that, I think. He was either an extremely skilled actor... or else who he said he was."

"Besides," continued Rei. "Don't we need to check it out one way or the other? And _give that back!_" She made a grab for Usagi's purloined manga... and Luna was slightly shocked when the raven-haired girl was able to snatch it away without any resistance.

That was probably because the thief in question was still staring wide-eyed at them. The black cat let out a long-suffering sigh, shaking her head for the hundredth time at the seemingly-impossible task she had been given of turning this girl into a warrior. "Usagi..." she said, exasperated. "You can't keep on letting your fear get the better of you all the time..."

Rei crossed her arms. "Yeah, and what's so scary about this, anyway?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "We've already _beaten_ this monster before. She wasn't even that much of a challenge."

Usagi turned to look at the young shrine maiden. "But now she's in _Nerima!_" she protested frantically. "Don't you know what people _say_ about that ward? There's always huge fights going on, and all kinds of magical curses, and monsters the size of buildings, and underwear-stealing gnomes of _pure evil_ and..."

"Usagi..." The blonde had finally paused to take a breath, allowing Ami to break in chidingly, her voice as close to reproachful as the blue-haired girl ever seemed to get. "Don't tell me you believe those kind of silly urban legends?"

"But they're _true!_" insisted Usagi. "Naru has a friend whose cousin knows a boy that goes to school there, so she's heard all about it!"

"Usagi, hundreds of people go to and from Nerima every day, and nothing like that happens to them," Ami patiently explained. "Rumors like these just... have a way of getting exaggerated. They start with some perfectly logical and rational event, like a gang fight, or a wild animal on the loose, or a normal underwear thief. But as people keep telling other people about them, the stories get... embellished, that's all."

The blonde Senshi still didn't look at all convinced by the explanation. However, she seemed to realize that there would be nothing more gained by arguing, and so elected to cross her arms in a slight sulk instead.

Sighing once more, Luna spoke up. "Rei is right. No matter what, this will need to be investigated. We can do it tomorrow, right after school. All of you should come up with an excuse for your parents. Even aside from the trip, we don't know how long this is going to take."

The three girls' heads nodded, their faces displaying emotions of passionate zeal, quiet determination, and miserable apprehension. But, one way or another, it was decided. The Senshi were going to Nerima.

* * *

That night, the upper room of Ukyo's restaurant was packed to the brim with eight sleeping humans and one wide-awake youma.

Beneda lay on her side, eyes tracing the shadowed outlines of the other sleepers as her thoughts churned restlessly inside her head. She could hear the soft sounds of the humans' breathing, could even guess who was who in many cases, based on where the sounds seemed to be coming from. The only one absent was Ranma, and she knew where he was—out on the roof, taking his turn at the watch for any attacks that might come against them.

It felt... safe. Paradoxically, even though she was in more danger now than she had ever been before, she also felt a more profound, a more distinct feeling of _protection_ than she had ever known in her previous, dog-eat-dog existence. Somehow, the humans' presences seemed to create a warm, reassuring cocoon around her—a comforting, reliable shield that she knew would defend her as she lay there in the dark, planning how she would betray them all.

The youma rolled over uncomfortably. She had already gone over dozens of hypothetical scenarios in her mind, envisioning dozens of ways that things could play out, and trying to figure out how she could twist them to accomplish her goal. It was a maddening exercise in guesswork and paranoia, trying to anticipate how—if ever!—the Senshi would make their appearance.

Eventually, her thoughts had begun to run themselves in circles. She kept going over the same situations again and again, with nothing new to show for it other than an increased sense of anxiety. And yet that anxiety kept her thinking about it desperate to come up with more ways that she could increase her chances.

And worst of all was that in the end, _no_ outcome could put her at ease. Fear gnawed away at her each time she imagined a scenario in which she couldn't think of a way to sustain her deception, filling her mind with images of discovery and death. And yet... even in the cases where she _could_ imagine pulling it off, where she _could_ imagine tricking Ranma and Ryouga into defeating the girls who were, in truth, their allies in the fight for their species' survival...

She flinched, rolling over once more. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her thoughts from envisioning when these humans surrounding her eventually realized what had actually happened. When they realized how she had deceived them. How she had used them.

_It doesn't matter!_ she told herself angrily. _I'm not really one of them, no matter what they think! Why should I care?_ But the protest sounded utterly hollow, even to herself.

_Maybe... maybe I can keep them from finding out at all! Just slip away after it's done, so that they never even know!_ But that was even more absurd. And even if they somehow didn't put it together with her sudden flight, they would still be just as doomed when Queen Metallia finally awoke.

_But... if they do end up defeating the Sailor Senshi... then couldn't that bring them into Jadeite's favor along with me?_ Beneda seized on the idea like a starving dog going after a bone. After all, humanity was doomed one way or another... so doing it this way was _actually_ the one chance her protectors had to curry favor with the eventual victors!

Except that she knew full well, in her heart of hearts, that there was no way Ranma or Ryouga would ever actually go along with something like that.

The youma rolled over yet again. _Well... that's not my fault!_ she thought agitatedly. _If they're to stupid to see what has to be done to survive, then... then it's not like there's anything I can do about it, is there?_

_Is there?_

The darkened room gave her no answer.

* * *

Deep within the recesses of the Devil's Keep, the Darkmistress lay on a bare, spartan bed in the middle of the fortress's medical ward. The bed was surrounded by about a dozen others, each one with an array of techno-magical devices beside it.

The leader of the Black Section stared up at the ceiling, as a small, rat-like youma nervously treated her damaged wrist. The medic kept running a hand-held Regenerator back and forth across the wound, and with each repetition, the Darkmistress felt another strand of her patience slowly fray.

Her soul burned with the desire—with the _need_—to get back to the human world and avenge herself on the scum that had dared shame her so. She kept replaying the battle over and over again in her mind, the memories eating away at her. Never before had she faced a humiliation of this magnitude... and every second that it went unanswered became harder to endure.

But she needed to heal first—thus the galling delay. The corpse-like youma snarled, baring her pointed, filthy teeth as she fought to rein in her murderous impulses for just a little while longer.

Suddenly she heard the sound of running footsteps, which distracted her momentarily from her thoughts of bloody retribution. A moment later, an Inquisitor raced around the corner into the room and immediately prostrated herself. "Mistress!" she said urgently. "We have an intruder! The detection wards indicate that someone has just teleported directly into the fortress itself... and we believe the endpoint was in your chambers!"

That news caused the Darkmistress to sit bolt upright, jerking her arm away from the medic. Her mind began working furiously... and it did not take long for her to realize what was happening. There were only five beings in all the Dark Kingdom who would dare violate her sanctum so casually. And she could guess which one of them had business with her.

"Leave me! Now!" she growled. "And order the patrols not to engage the intruder directly. He'll find his way here soon enough."

The Inquisitor wasted no time in complying, as did the medic youma. The Darkmistress, for her part, rolled off the bed and onto her feet. She would need to show as little weakness as possible in the coming confrontation.

For a while, there was silence. Then she heard footsteps approaching once more—but this time they were confident, unhurried. The Darkmistress braced herself. And then around the corner strode the grey-uniformed figure of General Jadeite.

The blond man's gaze swept across the room, his lip curling slightly as his eyes settled on her. For a few moments, the two of them stood locked in a staring contest, before the Darkmistress at last lowered her head. "General," she said through gritted teeth. "To what do I owe this honor?"

A humorless smile flickered across Jadeite's features. "I want to hear your progress in dealing with the rogue youma, of course," he told her. "I heard that you yourself had gone through the Juuban portal to attend to the matter personally... but strangely enough, I heard no reports of a glorious victory afterward. So I am curious as to just what happened."

At that, the Darkmistress's head snapped back up. "This is a Black Section hunt, _sir!_" she spat. "The method and timeframe in which I carry it out is at my discretion!"

"Perhaps..." was Jadeite's reply. "Then again, if these foes prove to be beyond your capabilities, you may find that it soon _ceases_ to be a Black Section affair."

The youma clenched her fists in outrage. "No! These enemies are _mine!_ You have no authority to interfere in this, Jadeite! In cases of treason I answer directly to Queen Beryl herself—not to you Army clods!"

Jadeite's cold blue eyes flashed, and in a corner of her mind that was not consumed by fury, the Darkmistress knew that she was treading on very dangerous ground. But the General kept talking, evidently choosing to ignore the insult. "Your jurisdiction, at best, only extends as far as the traitor herself," he said. "External threats, however, are the Army's responsibility."

"Threats? You mean the humans protecting her?" shot back the Darkmistress. "They're nothing but trash! Their luck allowed them to escape me once, but I will hunt them down wherever they hide!"

"Then I suggest you make good on those words, and quickly," said Jadeite. "I have allowed you to handle this matter precisely because I believed the external aspect of the threat was not worth my time. But if this pattern of _failure_ on your part continues... I may be forced to reconsider." And with that, he turned to leave.

"Failure?" the Darkmistress choked out. Pure, molten fury surged through her. "You forget to whom you speak, Jadeite!" she shouted at his back. "Even for a Dark General, you forget to whom you speak!"

Jadeite didn't even dignify the protest with a response—merely kept walking away.

A haze of red clouded the Darkmistress's vision, and with an act of her will, she flared her diseased aura, projecting it at Jadeite. It choked the air with a feeling of spiritual decay, so profound and pestilence-ridden that it would have caused many youma to collapse on the spot.

The Dark General paused in mid-step. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder, fixing the youma with a cold glare. Then, extending his hand palm-up, he casually lifted two fingers.

Suddenly, an invisible force grabbed hold of the Darkmistress, wrenching her violently into midair. Then, before she could even react, Jadeite turned his hand to thrust his palm at her.

The youma was flung the entire length of the medical area, hurtling backward in a blur of motion. Her body crashed through several beds and medical devices, stopping only when she was slammed into the solid rock wall with enough force to send huge cracks spiderwebbing out from the point of impact. Her vision exploded into white for a few seconds, and a cry of pain tore itself from her throat.

Nor did Jadeite relent. He held her there, his power crushing her against the wall until it felt as though every bone in her body would snap. "I will give you one piece of advice, youma," he said, his voice openly contemptuous. "If you truly seek to challenge a Dark General... then you had _best do it with more than parlor tricks!_"

Desperately, the Darkmistress tried to come up with some way to fight back, but there was nothing she could do. She could not move. She could barely think. And she knew that she had only one chance to get out of this alive.

"I..." The words were almost impossible to force out. "I... apologize... sir. I... forgot my place. Please... forgive me." Each and every syllable tasted like the foulest bile on her tongue, but she spoke them nonetheless.

Jadeite let out a small snort. He kept up the pressure for another few seconds... then made a small flicking gesture with his fingers. The Darkmistress was flung off to the side, tumbling end over end until she hit another wall.

"Do not forget," he said, as she scrambled back to her feet. "Your involvement in this matter is only at _my_ sufferance. And my patience is not unlimited. I will be watching you..." With that, his body dissolved into purplish light, as he teleported away.

And the Darkmistress was left alone. Alone, in the ruins of her medical area. Alone, with the inescapable memory of this latest humiliation playing over and over and over again through her mind.

A feral scream erupted from deep within her, a crazed howl of insane rage. She ran full-speed out of the medical area, looking wildly back and forth. Soon she came upon the medic youma—waiting nearby in the event that her Mistress needed more of her services.

Immediately, the Darkmistress unleashed her crimson lightning, engulfing the medic youma in a torrent of destructive energy. The youma screamed and screamed and screamed—until finally, with one last surge of power, her body exploded into a spray of youma dust.

Breathing heavily, but now slightly placated, the Darkmistress's thoughts turned toward the true objects of her wrath. She began to stalk through the hallways of her fortress, until she found an Inquisitor. "Mistress!" the masked youma said, prostrating herself.

The Darkmistress managed to suppress the urge to kill this one as well. Instead, she rasped out her orders. "Assemble a fire team—no, _three_ fire teams—of Inquisitors. I want them ready to depart for the human world the moment I am fully healed."

Then the corpse-like youma paused, considering for a moment, before continuing. "And begin recalling my Demons from their current assignments. I may have need of them before this is over."


	10. Shell Game

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Shell Game

The next day, immediately after school, Usagi, Ami, Rei and Luna made their way to the subway station as planned, and took the first train to Nerima. Upon arriving, their first order of business was to find a quiet, out of the way cul-de-sac... and a few moments later they were leaping from rooftop to rooftop, clad in their Senshi forms, following the map that the Gosunkugi boy had given them.

Nobody spoke much. Probably, Luna guessed, because they were each wrapped up in their own private thoughts about what they would encounter when they arrived. Sailor Moon, in particular, was glancing furtively around, as though she expected one of the rumored underwear thieves to jump out at any minute and accost her in person.

Eventually, Sailor Mercury spoke up. "We're almost there. It should be that building, there on the left." She pointed at the one she meant. And, in almost no time at all, the Senshi had alighted on the outer wall surrounding the house in question.

There was a moment of surprised silence at the sight that met their eyes. Eventually, Sailor Moon spoke up. "Um... this wasn't what we expected to find, was it?"

The moon cat shook her head slowly. In truth, she wasn't quite sure what she _had _expected to find. It hadn't been this, however.

Sailor Mercury hit a few keys on the Mercury Computer, frowning slightly at the result. Then she looked up and shook her head. "I'm not detecting any youma," she informed them. "In fact, I'm not detecting a single living thing anywhere in the building. The only thing I am picking up is residual dark energy... but there's a very large amount of it. A terrible battle must have taken place here."

Luna looked around, nodding. She certainly didn't need the Mercury Computer to tell her _that_. The building had countless gaping holes blasted through its structure, and she herself could taste the lingering taint of foul energy that still permeated the surroundings.

"But who was fighting who?" asked Sailor Moon.

Sailor Mercury looked down at her computer again. "I don't think that the youma we faced would have been capable of generating this kind of power," she said. "Which suggests that there is at least one other dark entity at work here..."

"Multiple factions? " murmured Luna thoughtfully. "But what are their goals? Who is on whose side? And who won here?"

Sailor Mercury shrugged helplessly, pressing a few more keys on her computer. "I can't say. There isn't even any indication whether..." Her voice trailed off, staring at her computer screen, then suddenly her eyes went wide. "Wait! I'm picking up _thirteen_ youma readings converging on this place from the southeast! And one of them has a power level I've never seen in a youma before!"

* * *

The Darkmistress alighted on the wall surrounding the Tendo compound, the dozen black-robed Inquisitors taking up flanking positions a moment later.

They were not disguised; many of the Inquisitors didn't have transformation abilities of their own. The Darkmistress had used her powers of illusion to make them all appear human for the first leg of their journey, but once they had traveled far enough from the Dark Kingdom portal that there was no risk of compromising its position, she hadn't bothered. Speed had become more valuable than subtlety at that point.

And it wasn't as though she planned for this confrontation to be particularly subtle in the first place.

Her lip curled as she surveyed the deserted structure, then gestured for some of her Inquisitors to begin searching it. They complied immediately, moving with an eerie silence as they darted into the building and began to scour its rooms and corridors.

She didn't expect that they would find anything. If their foes were planning on making another stand here, she doubted that they would have allowed their perimeter to be breached like this. No, she was confident that they had fled.

Eventually the youma returned from their search, empty-handed as expected. Fortunately, she had prepared for this possibility. "Scanners out!" she barked. "Break into teams of two, and search for youma energy. As long as they have the renegade, we'll be able to pick them out wherever they hide. Sweep this ward from top to bottom. Sweep all Tokyo if that is what it takes! But find them!"

The Inquisitors nodded in assent, each of them pulling a somewhat bulky handheld device from underneath their robes. It was a second-rate solution; the scanners had a notoriously short range, and the Darkmistress would have vastly preferred to use the Hounds as was her normal practice.

But that was no longer an option. The few specimens that had survived the previous attempt had become completely uncontrollable, utterly resisting all attempts to bind them to a new master. In fact, they would attack any youma who tried to take them from their kennel... and from the remains of their Keeper, which they stood vigil over.

Still, even what the Darkmistress had at her disposal would be more than sufficient. She would hunt her enemies to the very depths of hell if that was what it took... but she would crush them herself, no matter the cost.

* * *

Peeking timidly around the corner of a house, Sailor Moon watched the mass of cloaked figures standing on the wall around the building that they had just been examining themselves. She shuddered. Normal youma were scary enough, but she got a _really_ bad feeling from these ones. And their leader... Sailor Moon didn't even want to look at their leader's horrifying face.

"It appears they've finished their search of the building..." whispered Sailor Mercury. She was further back behind the wall, monitoring the situation through the Mercury Computer. "Now they seem to be talking."

"Well, I think we've found our attackers..." murmured Sailor Mars, peering around the corner herself for a better look.

Sailor Mercury nodded. "Yes, there's a good chance that... wait. It looks like they're moving out now." Indeed, pairs of masked youma were beginning to head out in every direction, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.

The Senshi pressed themselves tight against the wall, keeping themselves hidden under the roof's overhang as two of the youma passed right over the house they were hidden behind. As they went by, Sailor Moon noticed that one youma held an odd-looking device in her hand, which the monster was watching intently.

After a few breathless moments had passed, Sailor Mercury took another look at her computer, scrutinizing the display. Then she looked up. "They're doing a search pattern over the whole area now," she stated.

"Trying to find whoever used to be in that building," Sailor Mars guessed. "The question is... what should _we_ do about it?"

"Ummm..." Sailor Moon glanced back and forth between the other two Senshi and Luna. "Don't you think we should try and look for them too? I mean... if they're the enemies of the bad guys, then maybe they could help us out!"

"Just because they're on different sides doesn't necessarily mean that any of them are on our side," cautioned Luna. "We don't know anything about their motives for any of what they've done. And if the wreckage we saw was any indication, they survived a youma attack of _immense_ power. These are no ordinary beings we're dealing with."

"Still, I agree with meatball-head," put in Sailor Mars. "We should check it out. And if it does turn out that they're pursuing evil goals, we'll have to face them sooner or later, won't we?"

Sailor Moon blanched a little at _that_ prospect. Luna, however, was nodding. "But how do we find them?" the moon cat asked. "We can't cover as much ground as all those youma."

"No... but we do have some advantages," Sailor Mercury spoke up. "For one thing, look at their movements."

She held up her screen for them to see, displaying a map of the nearby city, with red dots moving rapidly across it, sweeping back and forth in arcs that expanded outward from the nearby building. "They seem to be scanning the area with those devices they were holding... but they don't seem to have anywhere near the range of the Mercury computer's sensors. Look, they can only move so far forward before they have to come back for another pass."

"But we only have _one_ Mercury Computer," countered Luna. "Even with a much greater range, we'll still have to pick a direction to search in."

"Then I think we should try to increase our chances even more," said Sailor Mars. "Quick, let's find a phone book. I want to see how many families named 'Gosunkugi' are living in this area..."

* * *

Sitting bent over his desk, Gosunkugi Hikaru worked feverishly on his latest voodoo doll. His brief encounter with the Senshi had infused him with renewed drive to pursue his own magical endeavors. Perhaps he could even assist them in their efforts, if he were able to call down some kind of curse on Saotome's head!

So engrossed was he in binding together the straw figurine that he barely heard the soft rap on his window. A few seconds moments later it was repeated, a little louder this time, registering enough that he glanced distractedly up to see what was making the noise.

Immediately his eyes bulged, and he toppled back out of his chair, gasping for breath. Sailor Mercury was perched on the roof outside his window, flanked by Sailor Mars and... and that had to be Sailor Moon!

His jaw hung open, vague noises emerging, as he tried to process this sudden turn of events. Why were they _here_? And how had they known where he lived?

Then the young man chastised himself. The answer to the last question was obvious—these were the Sailor Senshi! No doubt they had invoked some amazing locator magic to track him down. But as for _why_ they had done so...

He managed to push himself off the floor, and walk over to the window. Hand trembling slightly, he undid the latch and opened it. "H- hello?" he ventured.

"We're sorry to bother you like this, Hikaru," the blue-haired Senshi said. "But we were hoping you could give us some more information. We investigated the place you told us about... but it had been attacked, and there was no one there."

Gosunkugi felt something cold settle in his stomach. "Attacked?" he echoed, shocked. "By who?"

"More youma, we think. We don't know all the details," Sailor Mercury told him. "But it appears that the attackers are searching the ward now, so we think the ones who were in the building escaped somewhere. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?"

The young man tried to think, wracking his brain for everything he could remember on where the pigtailed martial artist might have fled with his youma. "There's... a ramen place called the Nekohanten..." he said at last. "One of the girls that Saotome keeps stringing along lives there. He might have gone to her." Then he snapped his fingers. "Oh, and there's another restaurant he might try to hole up in as well. It's called Ucchan's..."

* * *

One high-speed run later, the three girls and the moon cat stood in an alleyway, in the privacy of which they had returned to their civilian forms.

Usagi looked up. "Are you sure it's a good idea to go in there not transformed?" she asked, a nervous expression on her face. "What if they attack us?"

"But we still don't even know what's going on here," replied Ami. "We need to investigate, and doing it this way will be much less suspicious."

"Besides," said Rei. "Even if any of them are in there, I don't think they'll attack us if they don't know that we're the Sailor Senshi. There's no reason for us not to be there. It _is_ a restaurant, after all."

With that, the dark-haired girl stepped out of the alley, and began striding assuredly toward her destination. Ami and Luna followed in her wake, with Usagi taking up the rear, chewing her lip anxiously.

In a few seconds, Rei had reached the door. Taking hold of it, she slid it open and walked inside.

"Nihao!" The cheerful voice cut across the bustle of the busy restaurant, coming from the exotically-dressed girl behind the counter. "Welcome to Nekohanten!"

Rei made her way over to where the girl stood. Everyone else seemed to be just a customer; the one to pump for information was obvious. "Hello," the Senshi of fire replied, her voice friendly.

"What is you order?" the girl asked, her broken grammar accompanied by an extremely thick Chinese accent. "Special today is beef curry ramen."

_Perfect,_ Rei thought, hiding a smile. From the way she talked, this girl obviously wasn't very bright; they could hardly have asked for a better opportunity. _I don't sense any evil energy nearby, so the youma probably isn't here right now... but I might be able to find out something about where she is._

"Actually... we're not here to eat," Rei said. "We were just looking for a friend of ours. His name is Saotome Ranma. Do you know where we could find him?"

The girl cocked her head slightly. "You is all friends of Ranma?" she asked. "Shampoo never see you before."

"Oh, we're from out of town," supplied Ami, without batting an eyelash.

Rei put on a worried expression. "Yes! We thought we would come and visit him today... but when we got there, the house had been completely wrecked, and we couldn't find anyone anywhere! Please, if there's _anything_ you can tell us...!"

Shampoo frowned a little, looking at each of them in turn. Rei held her breath, wondering if their hasty little deception would be convincing enough.

Then, at last, the Chinese girl smiled. "Shampoo believe you," she told them. "Out-of-town girls _must_ know Ranma well... since they is bringing cat with when visit him."

Relief flooded the Senshi of fire. The girl had bought their story. "Oh, yes," she said, picking up the black cat for added emphasis. "Ranma always enjoys playing with you, doesn't he Luna?" Luna meowed supportively.

Shampoo's friendly smile widened. "Is too, too true," she said, nodding. "Shampoo know _very_ well how much Ranma love cats."

Then the Chinese girl leaned in conspiratorially. "Shampoo... not supposed to tell anyone... but since you is such good friends of Ranma, am thinking is okay. Shampoo know where is secret hiding place Ranma use. Maybe Ranma there now."

Rei leaned in closer as well, fighting to keep a triumphant grin off her face as Shampoo continued. "Place is old abandoned building, _all way_ on other side of ward..."

The incognito Senshi listened carefully, until they had a good grasp of where they were going. Then they thanked the Chinese girl profusely, agreed to greet Ranma for her when they saw him, and quickly made their exit.

As they walked through the doorway, Rei glanced back over her shoulder at Shampoo, who was smiling and waving. And, despite the fact that it had been necessary, she couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt over taking advantage of the poor foreigner's trust and gullibility like that.

* * *

Shampoo continued waving, smile plastered across her face, as the three girls and their cat left the restaurant, the door finally sliding shut behind them.

It was only then that her beaming smile began to harden, very slowly, into something with sharp edges. A gleam crept into her eyes that hadn't quite been visible during the previous conversation. Turning away from the counter, she hurried over to where the phone sat, and dialed a number with swift, precise movements.

After a few rings, it was picked up on the other end. "Hello, this is Ucchan's!"

"Spatula girl," said Shampoo tersely. "Listen good. Shampoo is thinking we have new problem..."

* * *

Rubbing her eyes tiredly from the lack of sleep she had gotten the previous night, Beneda glanced up as Ukyo returned to the upstairs room that was serving as the impromptu headquarters of the dispossessed defenders. The chef had left several minutes prior in response to a ringing noise, which Beneda understood was part of the human communications system.

At any rate, her expression on her return looked much more grim than it had on her departure. Akane broke off the conversation she had been having with Ryouga and looked over at her, frowning worriedly.

"What is it, Ucchan?" asked Ranma, clearly noticing the shift in her mood as well.

"Trouble," replied Ukyo. "That was Shampoo who just called. She said that there were three girls and a cat that just showed up at the Nekohanten. Looking for us."

The words sent an electric current through Beneda's entire body, dispelling any weariness she might have felt in an instant. Her eyes went wide. Three girls and a cat? Was it...? Could it be...? No, no it _had_ to be! It was the only explanation!

Ranma had, for some reason, turned a little pale at Ukyo's description, but Ryouga spoke up. "Could they have been more youma? In disguise, like before?"

Ukyo shook her head. "Shampoo didn't think so," she replied. "She said she couldn't sense anything off in their aura like Mousse had described feeling, but—"

"It's them," Beneda broke in. She was staring off into the distance, her voice laden with emotions that even she could not identify. "The Sailor Senshi. They've come for me."

Akane looked over at her. "Don't worry," she said in a reassuring tone of voice. "We won't let them get to you."

An utterly humorless laugh threatened to bubble out of Beneda, but she managed to keep it bottled up. Instead, she spoke. "Um... Where are they now?"

"Shampoo said that she sent them off on a wild goose chase to the old abandoned hotel on the other side of the ward," Ukyo said. "But she doesn't know how long that will buy us. They knew about the Nekohanten, somehow, and they might know about my place as well."

The youma's throat had gone completely dry. This was it. The crucial moment, when she truly began to put her plan, her last hope, into action. "Can I... see a map?" she asked urgently, trying to think of the closest scenario to this that she had envisioned the previous night. "Something that shows where they're going? And where the Nekohanten is?"

Ukyo's expression became puzzled for a moment, but then she shrugged. "Sure," she said, running back downstairs. There was the distant sound of rummaging, and soon enough she returned with the requested map, which she spread out across the floor. Then she pointed. "There. That's where the Nekohanten is, and over there is where Shampoo sent them. We're right here."

Furiously, Beneda tried to commit it all to memory, repeating the street names over and over to herself in her head. Out loud, she began to give the ostensible reason for her request. "Good, they won't be passing too close to us. At least... not yet, anyway."

Akane frowned. "Too close? What do you mean?"

Beneda took a deep breath, mostly to buy time while she made sure she had everything she needed to say straight in her head. The first part of it was even mostly true. "The Senshi can track us in many different ways. Some of their devices can scan for youma energy. If they get too close to an unshielded youma, they can detect her that way."

"Huh," Ranma said thoughtfully. "Yeah, that'll be a problem if they start showing up around here." Then he looked over at her. "But... you said it could be shielded, though?"

"Oh! " replied Beneda, acting as though the question had come as a surprise to her, while preparing to lie her ass off. "Well... yes... But the only ones who have it..." She let her voice trail off. In actual fact, the Dark Kingdom didn't have the faintest idea how to effectively jam the Senshi's equipment, but that was irrelevant.

After spending a few more moments in thoughtful silence, she spoke up again. "Actually... yes. Yes, I think I could get one of the shields. There's another youma stationed in the area named Cyrene, and we're old friends. She might be willing to slip me one of her spares."

Of course, in reality she and Cyrene had hated each other with a burning passion. But Beneda doubted that the other youma would show up to contradict her story, since the Senshi had killed her weeks ago.

"Great!" said Ryouga. "Let's go see her as fast as we can; there's no time to lose!" He matched action to words by leaping to his feet and hurrying in the direction of the nearest closet.

Sighing, Ranma walked over and dragged him back out by his collar. "The moron is right, though," he said. "We oughta do this right away."

Beneda nodded. "Yes, we should," she said. "But... I have to go alone. Cyrene doesn't trust humans. At all. She'd never forgive me if I led any of you to where she's hiding."

"But the Senshi are out there!" protested Ryouga. "It's too dangerous!"

"I'll be careful," said Beneda. Then sudden inspiration struck her. "And... if they do find me, I'll explain things to them and plead for mercy. Maybe if they know I'm not even with the Dark Kingdom anymore, they'll let me live."

Everyone still looked unconvinced, but Beneda pressed on. "Please! This is something we need to do!"

Eventually, Ranma let out a deep breath. "All right," he said. "I still don't like it, but... if you think it's that important... then okay."

Knowing that every last second was precious, Beneda made her goodbyes quickly, then rushed out the door of Ucchan's. She hurried down the street... then glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, to see Ryouga standing in the doorway of the restaurant, anxiously watching her go. A stabbing pain lanced through her chest at the sight, but she steeled herself and began to run.

It was time to find the Senshi.

* * *

Mousse gazed out across Tokyo, musing idly to himself that even now, seen from atop Ucchan's rather than the Tendo dojo... it all still seemed the _same_ to him. All soulless brick and concrete, crushing all the city-dwellers into their pre-packaged lives. The thought made him ache for the natural beauty of his true home, in the wilds of the Bayankala mountain range.

But immediately he chastised himself. _You're here with Shampoo!_ he thought harshly. _That's the most important thing! That's the only thing that really matters. Everything else is just... weakness trying to get in the way._

So caught up was he in his thoughts that he almost missed the sight of Beneda disappearing around a street corner a ways off. He frowned, sitting up straighter. Now where was _she_ going?

This, he realized, might be just exactly what Cologne had put him here for. And yet, by terrible luck, he was on guard. If he abandoned his post to follow after her, he might end up tipping his hand to everyone. Was it worth the risk? She _could_ be doing something innocent, theoretically...

He spent a few seconds wrestling with the question, before deciding that his best course was to learn more about what was going on. Accordingly, he swung himself down off the roof and walked into the restaurant below. "Saotome!" he called out. "Where's that youma of yours running off to?"

The pigtailed fighter glanced over at him. "She's doing us a favor," he said. "We think those Sailor Senshi are onto us, and she's gone to get something that'll help keep Ucchan's place secret from them."

Mousse paused, allowing this new information to sink in. Was this all legitimate, or just some youma trick? "Have we seen these 'Sailor Senshi'? How do we _know_ they're actually here?"

"Well, _I_ ain't seen them, but they showed up over at the Nekohanten a little while ago, and they were definitely looking for us."

Immediately, any thought of youma or missions from Cologne vacated Mousse's mind. "They were at the Nekohanten?" he asked desperately, running over to where Ranma sat and dragging him out of the chair by the front of his shirt. "What did they do? Was there an attack? Is Shampoo safe?"

"Hey, take it easy!" exclaimed Ranma. "Of course she's all right, idiot! You think we'd be just sitting around if she was in trouble? Heck, _she's_ got the old ghoul over there with her; it's _us_ you oughta be worrying about."

Mousse ground his teeth. Intellectually, he knew Saotome was right, but all the same he was nearly frantic at the thought that Shampoo might be exposed to such unknown danger without him there. What if the Senshi came back? "I... I should go check on her. Just to be sure."

"Oh, come _on!_" Ranma gave an exasperated sigh. "Look, she was the one who called us about it! She sent them off somewhere to keep 'em busy while we figured out what to do. There's nothing to worry about, so just get back up on guard, okay?"

The hidden weapons master wavered for a moment, then wordlessly dropped Saotome back in his seat. He proceeded to turn on his heel and stalk toward the door, mind churning. He had come down to get a clearer understanding of what to do, but instead it had just become more muddled.

Should he go check on Shampoo? Or try to follow the youma? Or stay here and hold the post he had promised Saotome and the others he would? He jumped back up to the roof, looking back and forth between the two different directions he could go in.

It was as he looked that a tiny flicker of movement caught his eye. Frowning, he squinted and adjusted his glasses, trying to get a clearer view, cursing his eyesight all the while.

Then, suddenly, he realized what he was looking at. Two distant figures, clad in black robes, leaping across the rooftops as they swept back and forth across the city—drawing slowly but steadily closer to the restaurant.

* * *

Beneda ran for all she was worth, pushing herself to go faster and faster. The buildings shot by on either side as she ran along sidewalks, across intersections. With each passing street name, she tried to match it to what she had seen on the map... but she was quickly realizing that her brief period of studying it had been _far_ from sufficient.

Still she ran on, her breath coming in gasps, trying desperately to recall enough of the map to guide her on a rough intercept course with the route the Senshi would take. This was her one chance. If she missed this...

The youma shook herself, trying to focus on the run instead. But the exertion did little to block out her fears that this would all blow up in her face. Worse, neither did it block out the gnawing reluctance that seized her at the thought of what she was trying to accomplish.

All of it swirled inside her—the fear, the apprehension, the uncertainty. And the further she went, the less confident she felt about where she even _was_.

_Have I gone far enough? Have I gone too far? Have I crossed the Senshi's route yet? I don't know!_ Her frantic thoughts echoed in her mind, arguing back and forth, repeating over and over. _Maybe... Maybe this was a mistake... Maybe I should have waited... Maybe..._

Then, suddenly, a huge burst of flame cut across her path.

She skidded to a stop, her breath catching in her throat. She had managed to find them after all! With a choked little chuckle, she realized that she had never been so relieved to be confronted with a deadly attack.

And then came the moment of truth, as she turned toward where the blast had been fired from. "So..." she said, trying to force all traces of nervousness from her voice and expression. "We meet again, Sailor Sen—"

Her voice abruptly broke off into an expression of shock and horror, as she saw not the expected Sailor Mars and her friends, but rather a youma clad in a black robe and a demonic iron mask. The youma's hands were both blazing, with long sheaths of hungry fire rising up from them.

Beneda whirled, trying to run, only to find that a second Inquisitor was already blocking the way behind her. This one clenched her fists, and with a snap, long metallic spikes extended out from her elbows, her knees, her shoulders, her feet and her forearms. "Oh, don't leave yet," she said, her voice silky. "Our Mistress so dearly desires to have a word with you."

With that, she lifted her hand, and Beneda saw that it had a Dark Kingdom scanning device. Then the youma pressed the signal button, and spoke into it. "All units converge on our position. We've found the renegade."

* * *

Mousse flattened himself out against the building wall, peering around the corner at the two robed figures as they passed over the rooftops close by. Behind him, he could feel Ryouga tense. But the youma simply continued on, and a few seconds later Mousse crept after them, beckoning Ryouga to do so as well.

Together, the two humans followed the two youma as the latter swept across the city. Neither boy spoke much; stealth was too great a concern in their minds, all their attention focused on keeping hidden from their prey. A brittle, tense silence reigned.

So they nearly jumped out of their skins when Ranma snuck up behind them and greeted them with a whispered "Hey!" Mousse could tell that Ryouga was struggling not to try and wring the pigtailed fighter's neck for that kind of stunt. Indeed, Mousse was half-tempted to give it a go himself, youma threat or no.

Ranma, for his part, just kept on talking, addressing his words to Mousse. "You were right," he said softly. "There's another group of 'em doing the same kind of thing over in that direction. Looks like they're searching the whole ward, probably with those gizmos they're holding."

"This is _bad_," Ryouga whispered urgently. "Not just the Senshi out there, but these guys as well? Beneda could be in serious danger! We need to do something!"

Ranma shrugged helplessly, although Mousse could tell he was distressed as well. "If you've got any suggestions on _how_ to find her, I'd love to hear them!" he told his agitated rival quietly. "She didn't exactly tell us where she was going, or which way she was going to take!"

The lost boy opened his mouth to reply—then froze, staring over at the two youma they were trailing. Puzzled, Mousse turned his attention there as well.

The pair of monsters had stopped, and one had raised her device to her ear, as though listening to it. Then, abruptly, they began running in a completely different direction. "They're... breaking off the search pattern..." Mousse murmured.

Ranma's face had gone very grim. "One of them must have found something," he said. And it was obvious who it was their enemies had most likely found.

The pigtailed fighter whirled to Mousse. "Get back to Ucchan's!" he said, speaking quickly. "Me an' Ryouga will follow those two and get Beneda out of there. But whatever happens... you keep the girls safe!"

The two boys locked gazes for a moment, then Mousse gave a curt nod. With that, Ranma and Ryouga turned and shot off in a blur of speed after the two youma.

* * *

Whirling back and forth between the two Inquisitors, Beneda tried to come up with a plan, but her conscious thought was beginning to erode into sheer, blind panic. "L- look..." she managed to plead. "Look, just... _please_, no!"

But the Inquisitors only laughed at her. "But we've already prepared a special torture chamber just for you..." the youma with the spikes said mockingly. "You don't want all our hard work to go to waste, do you?"

Desperately, Beneda formed a shuriken on each hand, even though she knew she stood little chance against a youma of this level—let alone two. Not daunted in the slightest, they began to slowly close in on her, the one with spikes laughing as she did so. _It's not fair!_ Beneda thought hopelessly. _Not like this! Not after everything that's happened! I was so close!_

"Stop!"

The voice cut through the air, causing the Inquisitors to spin and look up to the rooftops where it had come from. Astonished, Beneda did so as well. And there, looking down at them from above, were the familiar figures of the Sailor Senshi.

Beneda's breath caught in her throat at the sight, an unbelievable number of conflicting emotions assaulting her. Sailor Mars was on the left side, her arms crossed, a severe expression on her face. Sailor Mercury was on the other side, holding a small computer-like device. And between the two of them stood Sailor Moon, a small black cat at her feet.

"Doing such things in broad daylight is something you should be ashamed of!" announced the blonde warrior. "For love and justice, I won't allow you to... uh..." The girl faltered, then glanced down at the cat, looking puzzled. "Um... Luna? What do I say when it's one youma attacking another?"

At that point, however, the Inquisitors decided to make it a moot question. The one with the burning hands thrust them out at the Senshi, hurling a wave of fire in their direction. Sailor Moon gave a short scream, and all of the Senshi leaped away, plummeting to the street below. The youma's attack crashed across the roof they had just vacated, blasting away a large section of it and causing the rest of it to burst into raging flame.

Even as the Senshi fell, the youma with the spikes was charging toward where they would land. Sailor Mars clamped her hands together in midair, a point of her own flame forming at her fingertips. _"Fire Soul!"_

The Senshi's fireball snaked through the air toward the running youma, but the instant before it hit, the target jumped sideways in a blur of motion, then kicked off the nearby building wall to hurtle back at Sailor Mars.

The human's foot touched ground just in the nick of time, and she leapt out of the youma's path. The Inquisitor shot by the Senshi, swinging one her arm-spikes in a slash that managed to nick a shallow cut across Sailor Mars' cheek.

Further down the street, Beneda saw blasts of fire tearing into the surrounding buildings, accompanied by the frantic yelps of Sailor Moon as she tried to keep out of their way. The youma fighting her wasn't allowing her a moment's respite, keeping her on the defensive. The girl's dodges were shockingly awkward, and she always seemed moments away from incineration, but somehow she always managed to twist or stumble out of harm's way.

Sailor Mars, however, was in trouble. The spike-youma was still going after her, lashing out over and over again, as the Senshi fought to avoid being skewered. The Inquisitor lunged, forcing Sailor Mars to duck under her wicked swipe, then followed that up with a kick using the spike on her foot. The fire Senshi threw herself away, tumbling backward along the ground, just barely keeping ahead of the youma's strikes as they ripped up the street in her wake.

The chase went on until Sailor Mars ran out of room, her back hitting the wall of a building. With nowhere left for her prey to retreat, the youma let out a cackle of glee, raised her forearm spike high, and stabbed it down at the girl.

Then, out of nowhere, a crimson rose shot through the air, hitting the descending spike. The impact redirected the blow, causing it to plunge—and stick—into the ground right next to Sailor Mars, instead of plunging into her chest.

It would have only taken a moment for the youma to extricate herself... but it was a moment she didn't have. Already, from her position on the ground, Sailor Mars was aiming her fingers upward, calling on her power. _"Fire Soul!"_

The blast of flame roared toward the heavens, completely immolating the youma in its path. When the pillar of fire dissipated, there were only a few traces of dust left drifting in the air, before fading into nothingness. A second later something spun through the air, landing at Beneda's feet with a _clank_. Glancing down, she saw that it was the Inquisitor's iron mask, scorched and deformed by Mars' flames.

Looking back up, she tried to see how the other Inquisitor was faring... only to find that she couldn't. That whole area of the street was now blanketed by a strange, localized fog that was completely impenetrable to her eyes. She squinted, trying to make out what was happening inside it—

_"Moon Tiara Action!"_

—then she heard the Inquisitor scream, and a glowing disc flew out of the mist, youma dust trailing behind it. It immediately cut a tight arc through the air, slicing back the way it had come. A few seconds later the fog dissipated, revealing only Sailor Mercury and Sailor Moon remaining.

The blonde Senshi let out a deep breath, obviously relieved. Behind her, Beneda could see that Sailor Mercury was hurriedly focusing her powers once more, calling on streams of magical mist, which she directed toward the burning buildings. They washed over the flames, gradually thickening and thickening until it had finally choked them out.

Sailor Mars, meanwhile was scrambling back to her feet, even as Tuxedo Kamen dropped down from the rooftops to stand on the street, a little bit removed from the Senshi.

And then they all turned to look at Beneda.

The youma's throat went dry, as at long last she was faced with the confrontation she had been working toward all this time. The Senshi stood before her, watching her warily. It called back memories of their first encounter, back in the library. Had it really been only three days ago? It felt like three lifetimes.

Sailor Mars was the first one to speak up. "All right, youma. We want to know what's going on here," she demanded, her eyes flashing with intensity. "What's your game? Why were you fighting with those other youma?"

"Because..." Beneda began. She knew exactly what she needed to do, exactly what she needed to say in order to push events in the direction she had planned. And yet now that the moment had come, she found herself dragging her heels, trying to put it off. "Because I'm no longer serving the Dark Kingdom..."

The reactions to that statement were varied. Tuxedo Kamen's face—what could be seen of it—remained unreadable, while Sailor Mercury's brow furrowed in thought. Sailor Mars, for her part, fixed her with a suspicious gaze.

But it was Sailor Moon whose response was the most shocking: her face immediately brightened, taking on a hopeful look. "Really?" she asked eagerly, her blue eyes meeting the youma's. "You mean you're not fighting for the bad guys any more?"

Beneda opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She looked back and forth between the Senshi, trying to get a handle on herself. But in a strange way, even the Senshi seemed... _different_ to her, somehow, than they had at their first meeting. Back then, her mind had just filed them away in a generic slot, as "humans." Yet now she _saw_ each of them, noting details and differences that she would never have picked up on before.

It was most profoundly unsettling when she looked at Sailor Mercury. _She... looks so much like Akane..._ Beneda realized.

Meanwhile, Sailor Mars was continuing the interrogation. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" she asked. "What proof do we have that you've _really_ left the Dark Kingdom?"

"I have!" insisted Beneda, not looking the Senshi in the eyes, even as she cursed herself for her hesitancy. This shouldn't be so hard! "I'm... I'm really _not_ serving General Jadeite anymore..."

And then her shifting gaze happened to catch on the Inquisitor mask that had fallen at her feet, its empty eye sockets leering up at her. And she heard, echoing in the back of her mind, the words that the youma had spoken. _"We've already prepared a special torture chamber just for you..."_

Sucking in a deep breath, she snapped her head back up. "...and why _should_ I serve such a weak fool as Jadeite... when my _new_ masters are so much stronger?" she sneered. "Dark Kingdom? Moon Kingdom? Nothing but a bunch of has-beens, all of you! I've joined the _real_ power now, and this whole _world_ had better bow before us, or else we'll crush you all under our feet!"

_"Never!"_ shouted back Sailor Mars defiantly. "We'd rather die than submit ourselves to the likes of you!"

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged..." Now that she had begun, the words just kept tumbling from Beneda's lips. "Our plans are already well underway. If you think you can get in the way of them, then you obviously have no idea of my masters' true strength!"

"That makes no difference," was Sailor Mercury's firm response. "No matter who you've allied yourself with, we will never allow evil forces to—" Her speech was abruptly cut off as Beneda snapped both arms up without warning, forming shuriken on each, and firing them as fast as she could.

The Senshi's eyes widened in shock, scattering for cover under the sudden attack. Beneda knew they would regroup in moments, but taking the element of surprise like that had given her a precious head start.

Whirling around, Beneda began to run back toward Ucchan's.

* * *

As he ran, Ryouga kept his eyes locked firmly on the youma he was following, not once looking away. They couldn't afford any delays due to his veering off course, and his only prayer for avoiding that was to stay absolutely focused on their unwitting guides.

Beside him ran Ranma, a grim, focused look on the pigtailed fighter's face. They raced along, always careful to stay in the blind spot of the youma running across the rooftops above. Ryouga's mind was wracked with questions and worries, and he angrily wished that their two enemies would run _faster_. But there was nothing for it. He had to match their pace, agonizing all the while over what might even now be happening to Beneda.

Suddenly, from up ahead, he sensed danger, battle, deadly intent on the edges of his awareness. A quick glance confirmed that the youma were indeed heading right toward it. He looked over at Ranma, who nodded once in reply.

As one, the two boys sped up, shooting forward toward the youma in front of them. Ryouga launched himself into the air at the nearest enemy, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ranma do the same.

The youma must have sensed something at the last moment. She looked back over her shoulder... just in time for the lost boy's foot to slam directly into her iron mask. The force of the blow sent her spinning uncontrollably through the air, setting up Ryouga's next three punches perfectly.

The last punch hurled her off the edge of the building, and Ryouga followed her out into space. He grabbed her and swung her around as they fell, using the drop as a two-story shoulder slam into the ground below. The youma groaned in pain from the impact, then slumped unconscious.

Ryouga got back to his feet and glanced across the road, in time to see Ranma extricate his youma's head from the brick wall he had just driven it through. The Anything-Goes heir followed that up with a final, surgical chop to the back of the neck that knocked her out as well. Then he turned to Ryouga. "Come on, let's go!"

The lost boy needed no second bidding. He followed his rival as they both took to the rooftops, racing the remaining distance at top speed. Reaching the last building, they skidded to a halt, processing the scene before them.

Beneda was running headlong down the street below, dodging and weaving, cutting around corners and behind obstacles, firing her shuriken wildly behind her as she fled. Dogging her steps where her relentless pursuers—three colorfully dressed girls, and a masked man wearing a tuxedo.

Even as he took all this in, Ryouga saw one of the girls—blonde, with long twin pigtails—pull her golden circlet off her head. It quickly transformed into a glowing disc, which she hurled at Beneda with a cry of _"Moon Tiara Action!"_

* * *

Gasping for breath, springing for all she was worth, Beneda tried with all her might to keep far enough ahead of her pursuers... but she could tell that it wasn't working. They were gaining on her, moving to hem her in. She hadn't expected them to be this fast!

It was then that she heard Sailor Moon call out her attack. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the weapon shooting toward her with fearsome velocity. Beneda tried to dodge out of the way, but the Moon Tiara corrected in mid-flight, homing relentlessly in on her. The youma's heart caught in her throat, as she realized that she would be unable to avoid it—

—and then, with the tiara just inches away from her face, a red-and-black blur crashed down like a thunderbolt from above, its foot driving the weapon down into the street with a force that shattered the asphalt and knocked Beneda onto her back.

Breathing hard, Ranma glanced up at her and flashed a quick, reassuring smile, even as Ryouga jumped down from the rooftops to land beside him. Then, both their faces shifting into a much angrier expression, they turned to face the Sailor Senshi.

* * *

Ryouga clenched his fists, glaring daggers at these new enemies. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been quite so furious—even as his heart was still hammering from what a close call that had just been. If he and Ranma had been even one _second_ later, Beneda would have been...

He cut off that line of thought with a short growl. Better to focus on the problem in front of him. His gaze swept over the attackers who had been trying to kill Beneda, and it didn't take much guesswork to figure out who they were. Beneda had warned them, of course, about the Senshi's murderous attitude toward youma, but actually seeing it played out in front of his very eyes brought a whole new level of impact to it.

_And not just going around attacking youma without any provocation... but attacking her four on one?_ he thought disgustedly. Clearly, these girls were a bunch of brats long overdue for a good spanking. And as for their friend in the tuxedo... Ryouga cracked his knuckles menacingly.

The Senshi, for their part, had skidded to an abrupt stop at the sudden change of events, looking back and forth between the two new arrivals with wide eyes. At length, the blonde Senshi spoke up. "I... I am Sailor Moon..." she said, sounding a little unnerved. "In the name of love and justice, we're here to—"

"Save it!" barked Ryouga. He was in no mood to listen to any self-righteous explanations. As angry as he was, he was more interested in simpler forms of communication. Like connecting his fist with that masked man's face. Repeatedly. "We know who you are."

"And you made a _big_ mistake coming here..." added Ranma. "Beneda is with _us_ now. And trust me, you don't want to mess with us."

"Your scare tactics won't work!" the red-clad Senshi shot back—although the blonde looked as though she might beg to differ. "We would have come after you two anyway! Your youma told us all about what you've been doing, and there's no way we'd stand by and allow it!"

Ryouga glanced back at Beneda. So she _had_ actually gotten the chance to explain the situation to them... and they had _still_ attacked her after hearing it? Worse, they'd been planning to attack him and Ranma just because they'd been _sheltering_ a youma? Even Beneda's description hadn't done justice to how genocidal these maniacs were.

Ranma had evidently come to a similar conclusion. "Feh. I guess you all live up to your reputation, then," he said contemptuously. "You make me sick just looking at you."

And for once, Ryogua actually found himself in perfect agreement with his rival. "We'll put a stop to your little mission right here and now!" he said ominously. "I can't stand people with your kind of ideals!"

"I would expect nothing else from the forces of evil," proclaimed the masked man. "And I, Tuxedo Kamen, will do everything in my power to ensure your downfall. The guardians of righteousness will never lose to foes such as yourselves!"

And that, for Ryouga, was the final straw. "Well let's see about that!" he shouted, launching himself into a headlong charge at the man. And as he closed, he delivered a very familiar—if slightly modified—challenge.

"Tuxedo Kamen, _prepare to die!_"

It didn't have quite the same... _ring_ to it, without Ranma's name, Ryouga decided. But it was good enough.

* * *

She had done it.

That was the one thought that filled Beneda's mind, as she watched the lost boy hurtle toward Tuxedo Kamen. She had done it. The crazy, last-chance plan that she had come up with all the way back when Ryouga had saved her from Crusath had actually been carried out. She had put the Senshi at odds with her protectors, and now they were fighting to "save" her from a fate that had been her own engineering to bring about.

She had done it. The words kept echoing hollowly in the sick emptiness where she should have felt exultation.

Ryouga covered the distance between himself and Tuxedo Kamen at blinding speed, even as his opponent ran to meet him at a similar velocity. The lost boy swung his fist, but Tuxedo Kamen slipped around the punch, the two shooting past each other. Immediately the masked man spun, bringing his cane around to slam into the base of Ryouga's neck, propelling the boy even further forward.

But if Tuxedo Kamen had expected Ryouga to be fazed by the hit, he was disappointed. The lost boy spun as well, managing to grab his foe's wrist before the man could withdraw it. Ryouga used the grip as a fulcrum, wrenching his opponent back toward him while at the same time swinging his leg around in a jump kick scything in at the side of the man's head.

Tuxedo Kamen tossed his cane to his free hand with a flick of the wrist, and brought it around to block the attack, bracing it against his shoulder. Ryouga's kick slammed into the weapon with a resounding crash, sending the black-clad man flying away, his feet skidding backward across the pavement. Even behind the mask, Beneda caught a wince of pain from him.

"Tuxedo Kamen!" wailed Sailor Moon, her hands shooting up toward her forehead. _"Moon Tiara—"_ She broke off abruptly as her hands found nothing there... then looked back over to where Ranma stood, the Moon Tiara still trapped under his foot. He raised an eyebrow, then used his heel to grind it a little deeper into the concrete for emphasis.

Meanwhile, Tuxedo Kamen was whipping out his enchanted roses and hurling them at Ryouga as fast as he could. The lost boy charged straight into the assault, dodging around some flowers, while snatching others out of the air and tossing them aside. Soon Ryouga was within striking distance again, lunging in with another punch, even as Tuxedo Kamen tried to dodge and counter with his cane—

—but just before they collided, both of them leaped back away from each other. The next instant, two bursts of crimson lightning shot down from the rooftops, blasting twin furrows into the road right where the two combatants would have been.

Every head whipped around to stare at where the attacks had come from. Beneda's eyes widened. There, looking down at them, stood the deformed figure of the Darkmistress, flanked on either side by a row of Inquisitors.

For a long moment, all was silence. The members of the three sides all looked back and forth between each other, each sizing the others up.

Then the Darkmistress smiled. "Such good fortune..." she ground out. "The two greatest annoyances to the Dark Kingdom, both showing themselves to be crushed in one day..."

Sailor Moon set her jaw at the words. "That's not going to happen!" she said, in a slightly quavering voice. "No matter _how_ many different enemies appear, the power of truth and love will always win in the end! In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Ranma laughed, and started to crack his knuckles one by one. "I wouldn't have this any other way..." he announced. "You're _all_ going down!"


	11. Three Way

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Thanks go out once again to Lathis for his continued betaing help!

Also, I'm figuring I should probably move this fic over to the new crossovers section pretty soon. I've been reluctant, mostly because there's really no comparably important Sailor Moon character to take the second "character slot." But I suppose that's really where this belongs regardless.

So (starting with the next chapter update) that's where the fic'll be from here on out.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Three Way

With one last jump, Mousse propelled himself down from the rooftops, landing on the street in front of Ucchan's.

His arrival was not unnoticed. Ukyo and Akane had both been waiting outside the door of the restaurant, pensively scanning the skyline. His feet had hardly touched the ground before they practically jumped on him, with simultaneous exclamations of "What happened?" and "Where's Ranchan?"

Mousse sighed, holding up his hands to forestall any further overlapping questions. "There were youma searching the city," he explained to the two girls, who were each waiting with baited breath. "We think some of them might have found Beneda. Saotome and Hibiki went to try and rescue her. They told me to head back here and keep this place safe until they returned."

"Youma?" demanded Ukyo. "How many?"

The hidden weapons master frowned in thought. He considered the size of the arc traveled by the youma they had been watching, and made a very rough estimate. If they had been spread out in all directions equally... "Perhaps somewhere between ten and twenty altogether..." he ventured at last. "It's impossible to say for certain. We didn't see them all ourselves."

Akane sucked in a sharp breath. "Ten or twenty?" she asked, looking stricken. "But... they've had trouble every time they've faced even _one_ of them!"

Ukyo was nodding in agreement, her face grim. "If things are that bad, then they're going to need help! We have to go back them up!"

"_No._" Mousse said firmly. "You're both staying right here. I won't let anyone else put themselves in danger."

"You won't _let_ us?" echoed Ukyo dangerously. "I don't really think you've got a say in the matter, sugar."

"If I need to, I'll just tie the both of you up and let you wait it out inside the restaurant," snapped the hidden weapons master, lowering his arms and letting some of his countless ropes and chains slide down out of his sleeves to emphasize the point. "I'm quite confident that Saotome and Hibiki can handle this on their own."

"Oh really." The okonomiyaki chef's eyes narrowed, looking suspicious. "And what a coincidence—if they _can't_ handle it on their own, it means that _you've_ suddenly got a clear shot at your little Shampoo! Isn't that right?"

Mousse flinched a little, but refused to be baited. _Really,_ he told himself, _it's not as though I'm even betraying Ranma!_ In fact, the pigtailed nuisance had specifically _asked_ him to keep these girls safe! He was just doing what he had been told!

And if keeping the girls out of harm's way just _happened_ to result in his rival meeting an untimely end... _and_ fulfilled his mission to deal with Beneda in the bargain... well that was just a happy coincidence all around!

No, he told himself, this was exactly what he had to do. "Think whatever you want," he told them, his voice flat. "But neither of you have a chance of getting past me. So I suggest that you simply head back into the restaurant."

Both girls were now glaring at him angrily, but he returned their gazes without emotion. He knew that he could take both of them, if it came to that.

At length, Ukyo sighed, hanging her head. "I guess you're right," she said despondently. "There isn't really anything we could do to—"

Then suddenly she broke off, looking back over Mousse's shoulder, her eyebrows going up a little in surprise. "Oh! Hey, Shampoo! What're you doing here?"

Mousse's brain abruptly short-circuited at the words, and he whirled around with the desperate speed that only the truly lovesick know. "Shampoo! My dearest!"

* * *

After many long seconds, the last echoes of the resounding _CLANG_ finally faded into silence, and Ukyo re-sheathed her combat spatula. "Jackass," she muttered under her breath, as she peeled the limp form of the hidden weapons master out of the Mousse-shaped indentation that now graced the street.

She dragged his unconscious body back into the building, while Akane found Kasumi and told her to wake Mousse up once the two girls had gotten far enough away. Minutes later, they were standing outside the restaurant again—except this time with no annoying roadblocks in sight.

"So... where do we start looking?" Akane asked.

Ukyo's reply was to shrug. "We can head in the direction that Mousse came from, to start out with," she said. "And then... we search, I guess. After all, if Ranchan and that living bulldozer really start fighting the youma, it should be pretty hard to miss." Then she sighed. "I just wish we were bringing more help. If there's really _that_ many against us..."

Akane hesitated. "We could ask my Dad and Mr. Saotome... They might help us..."

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, Ukyo's eyes silently communicating—and Akane's eyes silently admitting—how likely it was that either man would be willing to help attack an army of youma. "It's... probably better that they stay here," Ukyo finally said, out of kindness. "To help protect this place. You know, in case something attacks."

The youngest Tendo nodded. "And we can't trust Cologne... and I don't think Shampoo could sneak off without her noticing... and beyond that..." She frowned in thought for a moment—and then her head snapped up. "Oh!" she said. "I've got an idea! It'd mean a detour, but..."

Ukyo hesitated, trying her best to weigh the situation, knowing that time was of the essence. Then, at last, she came to a decision. "Go for it. I'll start searching in the meantime, and we'll try to meet up wherever Ranchan is."

Akane nodded once in agreement. And with that, the two girls darted off, each in their own direction.

* * *

Ryouga licked his lips. Things were starting to get crowded.

The street that would soon be their battleground was a somewhat busy one, and already traffic was gradually beginning to back up. Car after car screeched and swerved to a halt in a disorganized jumble, motorists climbing out of their vehicles and shouting angrily and honking their horns at the crazy kids who were occupying the middle of the road.

Nor was it limited to that. People were pouring out of the stores lining the road as well, murmuring to each other as they tried to figure out what was going on. Snatches of conversation could be heard, like _"...Sailor Senshi?"_ and _"...some kind of stunt!"_ and _"...really do exist?"_

The lost boy tuned it all out. His attention was focused on his enemies, trying to decide who to attack first. His eyes flickered back and forth between the clustered knot of Senshi and the line of black-robed youma. The Dark Kingdom group certainly had the numbers advantage at the moment—not to mention that they just plain looked nastier.

Besides, he had a score to settle with that "Darkmistress."

"Beneda, you should find someplace to hide," he said over his shoulder to the youma behind him, not taking his eyes of the foes in front. "Ranma and I will handle—"

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted, as Ranma's entire body went rigid. Ryouga glanced over at his rival, only to see that the pigtailed fighter's face had gone white, his eyes wide with barely-suppressed terror.

Ryouga followed Ranma's panicked gaze, apprehension growing in his own stomach. What could he have seen to cause such a reaction? Ranma was one of the most self-assured, overconfident people he had ever met. Anything that could shake him _this_ badly would have to be terrible. It would have to be horrific. It would have to be—

—a cat. The lost boy resisted the urge to smack himself in the face as he belatedly noticed the small black animal moving in from the side to stand by the rest of the Senshi. Of course. Hadn't Ukyo said something about the Senshi having a trained cat?

Well, at any rate, this pretty much decided what his first target would have to be...

* * *

Sailor Moon watched the assembled enemies anxiously, wondering what on earth they were going to do now. They had never faced this many bad guys at once—_twelve_ of them! And that one with the pigtail still had her tiara!

The only consolation was that this time, the bad guys were divided among themselves. _Maybe..._ she thought, hoping desperately. _Maybe, if we just don't do anything, they'll end up beating each other up, and we won't even have to fight..._

Then, without warning, the enemy in the yellow-and-black bandanna launched himself straight at them. Tuxedo Kamen leapt to intercept him in a midair exchange of blows... but the villain's kick managed to slip in a split-second before the masked man's cane, and their protector went flying away.

Then he landed, right next to them. The Senshi all scattered defensively, leaping away in different directions. Sailor Moon tensed, wondering which of them he was going to attack—

But, to her shock and horror, the young man homed in not on any of them... but rather on Luna's small form. Before the startled moon cat even had a chance to react, their foe had snatched her up by the scruff of her neck. He then glanced around, wound up, and hurled her off into the distance, in a blur of black speed and a startled _"Mrrrrrooooowwww!"_

Sailor Moon gaped, her jaw hanging open in dismay at what had just happened. They had fought enemies before, but none of them had been _this_ evil, _this_ malicious. For him to deliberately go after the most helpless one present, the one who wasn't a threat to _anyone_...

She pointed a trembling finger at him. _"Unforgivable!"_ she cried out, and then threw herself headlong at the monster who had done that to Luna.

* * *

_This is bad..._ was the thought that ran through Luna's mind, as she shot through the air at speeds far greater than she would ever have considered safe. _This is very, very bad..._

The air ripped around her as she rocketed on her uncontrollable trajectory. Ahead, she saw the imposing, immovable bulk of a building right in her path. She flinched, seeing a vision of herself splattered across that wall. _No!_ she pleaded. _I can't die like this! The Senshi still need me! Usagi needs me!_

But there was nothing she could do. She continued to arc onward and upward, the building drawing closer and closer.

Then, just as she reached the building, she also reached the exact apex of her trajectory, slipping over the wall by mere centimeters. Then she began to descend, soon tumbling end-over-end along the rooftop, bleeding off her accumulated momentum bit by gradual bit.

Or at least, gradual until the air conditioning unit loomed up before her, and she slammed into it with a resounding _thud_. By then, however, she was going slowly enough that it merely knocked her out.

Even as she lost consciousness, one last thought managed to flit across her mind. _What amazing luck..._ she thought, as the darkness rose up to claim her. _It's almost as if he were aiming for it to happen like that..._

* * *

Ryouga let out a satisfied breath. Hopefully, the cat wouldn't be too hurt from that—after all, it wasn't some animal's fault that its owners used it for dishonorable ends, or that Ranma had his stupid phobia. In any case, now that the Senshi's pet was far out of sight, things were definitely looking up.

_"Unforgivable!"_

Well, relatively speaking, of course.

The lost boy shifted himself left slightly, allowing Sailor Moon's wild punch to swing harmlessly through the air by his head. She immediately repeated the strike, again and again, obviously distraught. _Decent speed..._ Ryouga noted, as he leaned back and forth around her punches. _But no technique. She's no fist-fighter._

"Sailor Moon, get back!" shouted the one wearing red—Sailor Mars, he guessed. She had her fingertips pressed together, and looked as though she were trying to line up a shot of some kind, but probably couldn't do so with her ally right next to him. So, taking the obvious action, Ryouga reached up and caught Sailor Moon's swinging fist in his palm, grabbing hold so that she _couldn't_ leave close quarters.

It was then that the youma decided to join the party.

Behind Sailor Moon, the entire line of cloaked monsters burst into motion. Like a black wave, they surged to the edge of the building they were standing on and lunged out into space toward their targets.

As they jumped, one of the Inquisitors extended her hands, holes opening in the tips of her fingers. In moments, her hands had re-formed into cylinders, like those of a gatling gun. And sure enough, they began to spin, spewing out a hail of needle-like projectiles at Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury.

The two Senshi scattered, the needles chewing up the pavement behind them. Sailor Mercury made a flying dive, managing to reach the cover of a nearby mailbox just in time. Sailor Mars, on the other hand, was charging her power even as she ran, and soon responded with a blast of flame that ripped through the projectiles, scattering them as it roared toward the shooting youma.

It seemed certain that the monster would be incinerated... but suddenly one of her allies extended her arm. With a wet, squelching sound, the limb stretched impossibly, grabbing the targeted youma and yanking her out of the line of fire. The other arm stretched as well, reaching down to the ground, embedding into the concrete, and dragging them both down to it.

At the same time, the Darkmistress unleashed her lightning at Ryouga and Sailor Moon. Seeing the destructive red energy bearing down on them, the lost boy leaped backward, dragging the young girl along with him, just before the destructive magic carved a gouge into the street where they had just been.

Ryouga continued to pull on the Senshi's arm, while smoothly swinging his leg into her path and sending her tumbling head over heels past him with a cry of _"Waaugh!"_ Then, with her out of the way, he clenched his fists at his sides and turned to face the mass of youma as they landed.

The Darkmistress smiled at him, red lightning crackling along her arms as she began to flare her crushing, diseased aura once again. Ryouga responded by tightening his eyes, but nothing more.

The response from the onlookers was more dramatic. If the previous pyrotechnic display had left any remaining doubts as to whether this was real or not, the choking spiritual pestilence resolved them without question. A cacophony of terrified screams began to break out, and soon the entire crowd was fleeing in utter panic.

Ryouga ignored the stampede taking place in the background, instead charging straight at the line of youma with a fierce battle cry. The youma answered his charge with one of their own, the Darkmistress leading them. _Perfect..._ thought Ryouga, homing in on her. _I owe you from yesterday..._

Their eyes locked angrily, as the two enemies closed at a blistering pace. A savage smile split the lost boy's face, as he prepared for the imminent clash—

—and then, the instant before they met, the Darkmistress was blindsided by a red-and-black blur, which slammed a kick into the side of her head and sent her flying away.

Ryouga skidded to an astonished stop, as did the other youma. "What the hell, Ranma?" he demanded, outraged. "She's _mine!_"

Ranma flashed him a grin. "Come on, P-chan," he said. "You already had a chance with her. You gotta give me a turn now." And with that, he dashed off in the direction that he had kicked the corpse-like youma.

The lost boy gaped for another instant, and then his brain kicked into gear. "Damn you, Ranma!" he roared, sprinting after the pigtailed fighter with violence on his mind.

But the other youma were responding as well. Three of the robed figures broke off to chase after Ranma, while the others swung around to cut off Ryouga. Growling at the interruption, the lost boy swerved, adjusting his course to plow straight through them.

Even as he did so, one of the youma raised her fist... then, to Ryouga's puzzlement, drove it deep into the ground, angled toward him.

The next instant, a huge fist made of earth exploded up through the street, slamming into Ryouga's chest and hurling him backward through the air, arms flailing. His body eventually crashed back to the ground, skidding along on his back until he slowed to a stop. Laughing, the youma pulled her fist back out of the ground—although the earthen fist she had created remained where it was.

With a wince and a glare, the lost boy climbed back on his feet again. The five masked youma were spreading out now, closing in on him from different angles. _Each one must have different powers..._ he thought. _But who has what? This could get tricky._

It was then that he saw something golden shoot through the air out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he realized that it was Sailor Moon's disc-shaped weapon, which she had just recalled to her hand. She stood, flanked by the other two Senshi, ready for action.

Ryouga cracked his neck. Ranma and the Darkmistress, he supposed, would have to wait after all.

* * *

The Darkmistress had been caught off-guard by the initial attack of this "Ranma", but she recovered quickly. Her headlong trajectory twisted into a quick backflip, putting her back on her feet as she skidded to a stop.

Not a moment too soon. The human was speeding down the street at her, with three of her Inquisitors chasing after him. Crimson lightning began to build in the Darkmistress's palms... but her target was juking back and forth in an evasive pattern as he closed. Her hand shifted left and right as she tried to track him, tried to read where she should fire... but it was like trying to catch smoke. He was so _fast!_

And then he was on her. The Darkmistress backpedaled frantically, her hands flashing in countless parries as she tried to keep up with the barrage of kicks the human was launching. He angled them in from every direction, spinning, switching his legs back and forth, all with dizzying unpredictability.

Behind him, the three pursuing Inquisitors had almost caught up. The closest one clenched her fists, and a huge mass of oily green tentacles erupted from all over her body, stretching out their writhing grasp toward the human.

At the same time, the Darkmistress saw an opening. The human's kick was just a little too slow, and she grabbed onto his ankle with both hands, holding him in place where her subordinate could easily engulf him—

—but the kick had been a feint. The instant her hands closed around his ankle he leapt off his standing foot, planting it directly into her face and kicking off of it, sending her staggering away and launching himself in an aerial somersault over the roiling appendages as they grabbed futilely at nothing. He then grabbed hold of the nearest tentacle, using it to swing himself around in mid-air and launch himself back down at its owner with a diving kick.

The attack connected, sending the tentacle youma reeling back. The human looked as though he meant to follow it up, but was forced to leap away instead as the other two Inquisitors came at him in unison from either side, cutting him off from their comrade. One of them had sprouted swords in the place of hands, which she used to slice madly at him, while the other wielded a long, staff-like weapon, which seemed to vibrate oddly as it swung, leaving a trail of distortion in its wake.

The human danced around them, forced to abandon his assault on the tentacle youma, who seemed on the verge of regaining her balance—

—until over a dozen roses shot in rapid-fire from off to the side, spearing through the Inquisitor's body until she looked like a macabre pincushion. The youma let out a choked scream, then stumbled, clutching at herself, before finally crumbling into dust. Even as she died, Tuxedo Kamen swooped past her and into the fray.

The two Inquisitors whirled to face the new threat, a distraction which Ranma promptly exploited by driving his foot into the gut of the one to his left, doubling her over and causing her to drop her staff. But, by pausing his manic dodging to attack, he had given the Darkmistress a clean shot, and her crimson lightning immediately raged out toward him.

Ranma threw himself forward, rolling across the back of the doubled-over Inquisitor. As he landed on the other side of her, he kicked out behind himself, catching the youma in the rear and knocking her forward into the path of the Darkmistress's attack.

The youma howled as the blast hit her, sending her flying away, enveloped in crackling red energy. But even as the attack hurled her off, Ranma caught hold of her ankle, swinging her in a wide arc around him, and finally toward where Tuxedo Kamen was locked in combat with the other Inquisitor, cane clashing against blade.

At least, they were locked in combat until Ranma clobbered Tuxedo Kamen with his youma-sized club. The masked man and Ranma's impromptu weapon were both sent tumbling away, rolling human over youma over human. Ranma, meanwhile, had taken over Tuxedo Kamen's assault on the other Inquisitor without the slightest pause.

The tumble did not last long before Tuxedo Kamen took control of it, taking a rose and thrusting it deep into the chest of the already-damaged Inquisitor. The youma gasped, then disintegrated, leaving the masked man lying flat on his back.

It was far too perfect a target to pass up. Her face splitting into a nasty smile, the Darkmistress opened fire on his prone body, and even behind his mask she could read the distress in the man's face. From the awkward position he was in, there was no way he could get his feet under him in time to dodge.

Spinning his cane in his hands, Tuxedo Kamen planted it into the ground beside him. Then, just before the Darkmistress's attack hit, the cane extended, shooting the black-clad man high into the air. Then, as the ground exploded beneath him, the human swung the elongated weapon high over his head, and then brought it plummeting back down toward the Darkmistress.

The Darkmistress gritted her teeth, raising her arms high in a cross-block, catching the black weapon between them. She then had to dodge with all her speed, as the human rained down roses at her from on high, covering his descent until he landed in a crouch, his cloak billowing about him.

With a growl, the Darkmistress charged toward him, and he sprang out of his crouch at her as well. They clashed together in a furious exchange of blows. The impacts of the black cane stung against the youma's forearms, and with each blow she could sense the detestable magic that the weapon was imbued with.

But she was winning. She could taste it. She was driving him back, slowly but surely, pushing his defenses harder and harder. They circled and spun, beating on each other's guard, looking for an opening...

Then, suddenly, Ranma was there, leaping straight between the two combatants with a split-kick. His legs shot out to either side of him at both of their heads, and they only just barely managed to twist out of the way in time.

Ranma landed on one foot, pivoting gracefully on it to face the other two, even as they simultaneously launched a lightning bolt and a flurry of roses at him. He flowed into a backflip, allowing the Darkmistress's attack to pass under him, while his hands vanished in blurs of speed, snatching the roses out of the air. By the time he had landed, he had assembled the flowers into a rather nice bouquet—which he held out to Tuxedo Kamen, a grin on his face.

The Darkmistress let out a hiss of breath. A glance to the side confirmed that the youma that the pigtailed boy had been fighting was now down for the count—although oddly enough she appeared only unconscious, not destroyed. Nonetheless, it was obvious that this human, too, was an extremely dangerous fighter.

"Very well, then..." the corpse-like youma rasped out, as she crossed her arms in front of herself. Her hands curled into claws, and with an act of the will, she began to form her lightning gauntlets. "Let us try this once more..."

* * *

"Sailor Moon, _watch out!_"

The blonde Senshi wasn't exactly sure what kind of danger Sailor Mercury was warning her about, or even what direction it was coming from. Still, panicked, random dodging had served her pretty well so far, so she went with it. And, sure enough, when a punch from that stretchy-armed youma shot down from the rooftops, she had already half-run, half-tripped out of its path.

She continued to stumble desperately across the street, avoiding more and more elongated punches as she did so—until the youma was forced to break off its attack to escape a flurry of yellow-and-black bandannas.

She could see Sailor Mars a ways off, fighting against yet another of the youma as well. _What are we gonna do?_ she wailed to herself. _They're everywhere!_

Hoping against hope, she turned back to the blue-clad Senshi. "Sailor Mercury!" she pleaded. "Do you have any ideas?"

The other Senshi turned to face her, and Sailor Moon was not comforted by the strained expression on her face. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think—"

Then, to Sailor Moon's horror, her words were cut off as an earthen fist erupted from the ground next to Sailor Mercury, smashing directly into her from the side and flinging her limply through the air.

She heard a victorious laugh, and out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the youma who had done it—crouching with one of her arms buried in the ground. As Sailor Mercury fell, the youma raised her other arm, preparing to finish off the helpless, airborne target.

_"Aaaaaauuuuughhhhhh!"_ With a terrified scream, Sailor Moon ran straight into the space that the youma was targeting, arms flailing wildly, ponytails streaming behind her. She caught Sailor Mercury in mid-fall, and then without pausing for a moment, ran straight onward toward one of the now-abandoned stores that lined the sides of the street. Chips of cement dug into her back as the earth-fist youma's second strike ripped out of the ground just behind her.

She hit the door at a dead sprint. It was usually the sort of door that opened _outward_, but it made an exception for a superhuman magical girl moving with that kind of frantic velocity. Albeit an exception that left the door itself in rather poor condition.

That out of the way, Sailor Moon ran deep into the store, ducking behind some shelves, before finally coming to a stop. She was panting hard, and efforts to catch her breath didn't seem to be having much effect. Abandoning the effort, she looked down to check on Sailor Mercury.

The blue-clad Senshi was still breathing, which filled her with relief. But she was unconscious, which meant that they were down their smartest member, in a fight where they were already seriously outnumbered. "Sailor Mercury, wake up!" Sailor Moon begged, shaking the other girl a little. "Please... Sailor Mercury... I... Please wake up!"

Her entreaties were interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the store. Sailor Moon immediately froze, going as silent as a mouse, sucking in her breath and holding it.

"Come on out and _play_, Senshi..." sang out a mocking, lilting voice, obviously belonging to one of the youma. "You're not running away, are you? Just because I got one of your little friends?"

Sailor Moon shut her eyes tight, willing the whole situation to just go away, but the footsteps came ever closer. The youma was searching the aisles, each one bringing her closer to their hiding place. Opening her eyes, Sailor Moon tracked the sounds as they drew nearer and nearer. Then, swallowing hard, she drew her tiara from her forehead, changed it into its disc-shaped form, and hurled it straight through the shelves at the youma.

The bladed weapon tore through the rows of shelves without slowing. Looking through the holes it made, Sailor Moon caught a brief glimpse of the enemy, and she could see the youma's eyes bulge even through the narrow slits of her demonic mask. But the youma twisted backward just in time, arching her body so that her back was parallel to the ground. The tiara sliced just inches above her.

Wrenching herself back forward, the youma drove both her fists into the ground, taking a guess at where the tiara had come from. Sailor Moon jumped back with a yelp, as two earthen fists shot straight up in front of her, flipping shelves crazily through the air and scattering their contents in every direction.

Looking down, Sailor Moon realized that this had had the added effect of burying Sailor Mercury under a covering of miscellaneous merchandise. The blonde girl's first instinct was to try to dig her friend out... but then she realized that if Sailor Mercury was unconscious, that this was probably about the safest place for her right now.

As long as this youma was led away from here.

Taking a deep breath, she burst into a run, shooting past the started youma, who had apparently not anticipated her opponent making such a sudden break. She raced back to just outside the store, recalling her tiara as she did so, and then whirled to face her opponent once more.

"Wrecking convenience stores is a crime against shoppers everywhere!" she shouted at the masked monster. "I won't stand by and allow it! In the name of the moo—"

Three rapid-fire fists of earth, barely dodged, put an abrupt end to the speech, and initiated the battle once more.

* * *

Ukyo ran for all she was worth, looking back and forth, buildings shooting by her on either side. She reached out with every sense she had to try and search for signs of combat. At the same time, she tried _not_ to consider just how daunting the odds were of finding what she was searching for. There was just _so much_ ground to cover... and Ranma could be in trouble already, even as she hunted for him!

But she pushed all such thoughts to the back of her mind, concentrating instead on getting the most she could out of her danger sense. _It'll all work out,_ she told herself firmly. _It's not like this is the first time Ranchan has gotten himself in over his head. No matter how bad the odds are, there's no way he'd let some bunch of monsters beat him. I'm sure of it!_

And yet there was a gnawing undercurrent of fear worming its way though her—fear that no amount of denial could erase.

That fear spurred her on, driving her to run even faster. _It'll all work out!_ she repeated, with stubborn determination. _I'm going to find him in time! I have to!_ As his fiancée... As his best friend... As someone who just plain _loved_ the idiot, she wasn't going to stand by and let those youma hurt him!

And if she did help save him... maybe then he would finally see that _she_ was the best choice to marry. It would prove how useful she could be. It would prove that she _wasn't_ just a burden, holding him back. If she could do that, if she could just _show_ him that... she was certain that he would stay by her side.

_I'm coming, Ranchan,_ she thought, increasing her pace even more, as the vastness of the city stretched out before her. _I'm coming. Just... don't you dare die!_

_Don't you dare leave me behind again..._

* * *

Ryouga made a running dive, sliding behind one of the abandoned cars. A rain of needles chewed up the street in his wake, tracing his path until they began to embed in the vehicle's metal framework.

In reply, Ryouga ripped off one of his bandannas and threw it back around the car. The bladed fabric spun in a wide arc through the air, buzzing in at the youma and forcing her to dive for cover as well.

Then the next instant, a shadow fell over Ryouga.

He leaped backward, just as another of the black-robed figures plummeted down from above, slamming her fist into the street with enough force to shatter it. From there, she immediately twisted into a spin kick that tore through the air toward Ryouga's head.

The lost boy raised his arm, and the youma's kick collided with his block in a bone-rattling crash. Ryouga gritted his teeth, but withstood the impact. Then he grabbed her leg and yanked her toward him.

His first punch stopped her forward momentum cold. He proceeded to wind up for his second, far more powerful punch, which sent the Inquisitor flying back into another abandoned car, completely crumpling the vehicle's frame around her.

Ryouga smirked, but had no time to savor the victory before another volley of needles made him dive back behind the car he had been using for cover. He growled. That particular youma was _really_ getting on his nerves. She would have to be his next target...

But it was then that a curious stinging sensation made him look down at his fists in puzzlement. _What the...?_

His knuckles were bleeding slightly.

He whirled back around, just in time to see the youma he had punched pull herself out of the smashed remains of the car, not showing the slightest sign of injury. A low chuckle escaped from behind the demonic iron mask, and then the Inquisitor came running at him once again.

Ryouga swore under his breath. The youma behind him continued her withering barrage of needles as the other one closed, keeping the lost boy pinned down behind his cover. Even with her ally in such close proximity, the shooter showed no hesitation in spraying endless waves of the projectiles at them. Any of the needles that hit the other youma simply embedded there with a dull _thud_, and no visible detriment.

And then the charging youma reached close quarters. Ryouga rolled to the right and to the left, trying to dodge punches and stomps while staying ducked behind the limited area of cover that the car provided from the shower of sharp death. He took every opening he could to retaliate, but all his blows managed to do was knock the youma back momentarily, and bloody his fists even more.

But, gradually, his inability to hurt the youma began to give him an idea...

The _next_ time that the youma charged at him, the lost boy caught her with a shoulder throw that flung her spinning into the air, over the car he was taking shelter behind. He followed a moment later, staying in her shadow, protected from the needles by her body.

He slammed his shoulder into her from behind, in a mad bull-rush that carried them both even further. And then he grabbed hold of her, using her as a living shield as he ran for all he was worth toward the shooter.

She fought him all the way, swinging back at him with her elbows, but her position was too awkward to do much damage to someone as tough as him. The other youma continued to fire, but the shots only thudded harmlessly into Ryouga's captive.

When that failed, she shifted her aim lower, trying to hit Ryouga's churning legs. But the lost boy jumped at the last second, and planted a kick between the shoulder blades of his shield. The youma went flying forward like a cannonball for the remaining distance, smashing into the shooter, prompting a scream as that youma was impaled by her own needles, which she had fired into her compatriot.

The two youma tumbled one over another, even as Ryouga moved to follow up his attack. He leapt high into the air, using gravity to increase the power of his punch as he hurtled down toward them—

—then, just before he hit, a long black arm stretched all the way from the other side of the battlefield, latching onto his neck. The next instant he was wrenched violently off course, hurtling toward the Inquisitor whose limb it was.

As one arm reeled him in, the other shot out toward him in a punch. The two opposing forces met halfway, resulting in an impact that drove the air from Ryouga's lungs and sent him into a crazy tailspin through the air, until he eventually crashed to earth.

He lurched back to his feet, gasping for breath, just in time to see an elongated leg swinging around toward the side of his head. He ducked underneath it, then reached up to grab the limb and yank it.

It was like trying to grab tar. His hands sank into the greasy substance as it slithered through his fingers, retracting back to make way for the next attack, another punch.

_Forget this!_ Ryouga thought savagely. _Playing around with her arms will just get me killed. I need to get to the source._ He broke into a run toward the Inquisitor, slipping around the incoming punch as he closed.

The barrage of attacks became thicker the closer he got, the impossible limbs twisting and arcing to attack him from in front, from behind, from above, from every conceivable angle. He twisted, sidestepped, jumped and blocked, as the arms and legs shot around him, trying to hit him, trying to ensnare him. Relentlessly, he fought his way forward, until at last he reached the main body and slammed a kick directly into her torso.

With a wet _splorch_, his foot went straight through her chest and out the other side. But any satisfaction he might have felt was instantly dashed, as the youma's chest hardened around his leg, preventing him from withdrawing it. _Crap, her whole body's like that!_

Before Ryouga could try anything else, one of the youma's hands grabbed hold of his standing leg and swung it up into the air. At the same time, the part of her torso that was clutching his other leg began to distort, bulging out into a third arm extending out of her chest. The Inquisitor held him upside-down, just out of reach of her main body, as she laughed mockingly at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryouga saw that the two youma he had fought before were back on their feet. The one with the needle gun seemed to be heavily injured, barely standing, but she was able to raise one of her weapons toward him, and he knew that she was about to open fire.

He turned back to the laughing youma that had entrapped him, even as his hand shot to his belt. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he ripped the strip of cloth from around his waist and slashed off her head.

The Inquisitor crumbled to dust in mid-laugh, releasing him from her grasp. Ryouga began to fall... but he knew it was too late. The needle youma already had a bead on him. He couldn't dodge until he reached the ground, and he wasn't going to make it in time. Even now, he could see her sighting along her arm—

—and then a shuriken shot down from the rooftops, burying its blades deep into the Inquisitor's back. The youma lurched drunkenly forward, then dropped to her knees, then flopped flat on her face, disintegrating as well.

Ryouga looked up, to where Beneda was peeking over the edge of a roof. He flashed her a smile and a thumbs-up, which she returned, a bit more shakily.

But already the battle was demanding his attention again. The remaining Inquisitor of the three he had fought was charging across the battlefield toward him. He narrowed his eyes, preparing himself to engage the seemingly-invincible bruiser. The distance between them became less and less, and Ryouga took a deep breath—

—just as a massive blast of flame roared in from the side, engulfing the youma and hurling her away. Ryouga whirled, and saw Sailor Mars standing there, smoke rising from her fingertips.

She turned to face him as well, and for a moment it seemed as though she were going to attack. But then she leaped aside, as an iron sphere the size of a bowling ball crashed down from above.

The heavy sphere was connected back to the youma wielding it by a long metal chain, feeding directly into the Inquisitor's arm socket. Seeing that she had missed, the youma began to retract the chain, reeling in the weapon. Her other arm had an identical wrecking ball, which she was twirling on its chain in lazy circles.

Sailor Mars ran at the ball-and-chain youma, unleashing her magical attacks. Ryouga, however, turned back to look at the youma she had just shot.

The Inquisitor had climbed back to her feet yet again. The Senshi's fire had ignited her robe; her entire body was engulfed in flame as she strode toward the lost boy. As she walked, she tore off her mask, and the burning remains of her garments, revealing the youma that had been underneath.

Her entire body was encased in a thick, bulky brown carapace, like some kind of hideous, human-shaped insect. Even her eyes had an insectoid quality to them, green, multi-faceted orbs, sunk deep in the armored, overlapping shells that were her face.

She continued to walk, traces of smoke still rising from her, until she and Ryouga stood mere paces from each other, the youma looking down at the shorter human. Then she snapped her fists up into a fighting stance.

The lost boy raised his fists as well.

* * *

Beneda scurried across the rooftop as fast as she could, anxious to reach another hiding place. She had betrayed her previous position by shooting the Inquisitor before she could hurt Ryouga, and although the combatants below were still keeping each other busy, she wanted to be somewhere else quickly, in case one of them suddenly decided to target her.

She reached the back edge of the roof and vaulted over it, dropping the two stories to the ground. The building was now between her and the fight. She ran along behind the rows of stores, eventually finding an alley that provided a suitable angle. She crept down it, peeking out around the corner that fed back into the street. It was perfect; she could see everything from here.

Across the street, Sailor Mars was fighting toe-to-toe with the Inquisitor wielding the twin wrecking balls. Roaring currents of flame swirled and criss-crossed with the spinning, smashing weights. They dodged feverishly around each others attacks, each trying to find an opening, an advantage.

Nearby, Ryouga and the youma with the insect armor were pounding away at each other with terrifying ferocity. The very air seemed to reverberate with the force of the blows they exchanged, neither fighter showing any signs of stopping. Between the two of them, Ryouga was getting far more techniques past the other's guard. But they had no discernable effect, while Beneda could see the lost boy wince with each hit he took. A cold chill wormed its way through her stomach at the realization.

Sailor Moon had taken to the rooftops on the far side of the road. She was buzzing the remaining Inquisitor mercilessly with her magic tiara, keeping the youma on the defensive as it tried to keep ahead of the deadly weapon. The Senshi had evidently realized the advantage of the high ground against a foe whose attacks came up from the earth.

Further down the street, Ranma, Tuxedo Kamen and the Darkmistress were locked in a furious, three-way war, each going after the others in a blinding flurry of strikes. It was impossible to tell who was winning; whenever one combatant seemed to gain an advantage, that would concentrate the attention of both the others on them, until the balance shifted yet again.

Beneda's gaze shifted furtively back and forth between Ranma's fight and Ryouga's. She had been confident in their ability to win in a simple battle against the Senshi alone... but with the Dark Kingdom forces in the picture as well, the possibilities became too chaotic to even begin to predict. It could go any of a million different ways, and many of them did not end well for the two martial artists.

The youma clenched her hands tightly as she continued to watch the boys' fights play themselves out...

* * *

Ranma hopped backward, twisting furiously as he evaded the Darkmistress's barrage of punches. He could smell the tang of ozone as her lightning-encased fists shot past him, sometimes missing him by a _much_ thinner margin than he would have liked.

From behind him, Tuxedo Kamen tried to swing his cane into the back of Ranma's head, but the pigtailed fighter ducked at the last moment, and caught the other man's wrist as it went by. Using his grip, he manipulated the man's arm so that his cane blocked a few of the Darkmistress's blows, before a kick from his unwilling assistant forced him to relinquish his hold.

Then the Darkmistress was on them both, and they sprang apart in opposite directions. One corner of Ranma's mouth quirked up in a half-grin. _Yeah..._ he thought. _I was right to take her on myself..._

It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with old P-chan wanting to get even with the enemy who had beaten him. He certainly knew how _that_ felt. But they were in a _really_ tight spot here, and the simple fact was that the nature of Ryouga's fighting style made it a bad match against someone with powers like this "Darkmistress" had.

The Anything-Goes heir went back on the offensive, his fists fairly vanishing as they pounded the youma, slipping around her attempts to block. She was weathering his hits... for now. The individual punches in his blinding flurry didn't have the same raw force as one of Ryouga's brutal haymakers. But they were beginning to tell, slowly but surely. He could see it in her eyes.

The Darkmistress tried to counterattack, but Ranma slid around her punch and spun his elbow into her rib cage, then followed that with a kick to the exact same spot, which knocked the youma right into a cane swing by Tuxedo Kamen. She snarled, leaping away.

The problem with fighting the Darkmistress was simple, really, Ranma reflected. You couldn't block her attacks, and you couldn't let her block yours. The whole thing was one giant challenge of subtlety, feints, speed and evasion.

And, fortunately enough, those were all things Ranma had in spades.

He kept up the pressure on the hideous youma, driving her further and further back. Tuxedo Kamen hurled a volley of roses at her as well, and though she managed to evade them all, it left Ranma with a beautiful opening. He lunged toward her, intent on making the most of the opportunity. His leg shot out in a devastating kick aimed right at her face—

And then, an instant before the attack landed, the Darkmistress's face became that of a terrified Akane.

Pure, simple reflex caused Ranma's leg to seize up, pulling the technique just before it landed, and "Akane" was quick to capitalize on it. She lunged toward him—but while Ranma had been caught off-guard by the illusion's sudden use, he still had the advance warning from Ryouga's fight, and was able to quickly adjust. He jumped for all he was worth off his standing leg, his enemy shooting harmlessly by underneath him as he did a handspring off her head, flipping through the air back to the ground.

"Hah!" he called out, spinning around. "You're gonna have to do better than cheap tricks like that if you want to have a chance against me!"

Slowly, "Akane" turned around. "We shall see, human," she said, speaking the incongruous words in a voice that was so perfectly like the real Akane's that it made Ranma's skin crawl. "We shall see..."

* * *

Ryouga dove at the armored Inquisitor, his belt-sword blurring as he hacked furiously away at his foe. The weapon spun and whirled in his hands, carving countless gashes into the insectoid carapace... but never even coming close to penetrating.

He tried to target the joints, to stab through the youma's knee through what looked like a chink in its protection. And, for a moment, it looked as though it might work. But it had only just begun to enter when she slammed her knee down to the ground, trapping the belt in place. She followed that by swinging her fist toward Ryouga's gut.

The lost boy managed to absorb the punch on his forearm, but he was still knocked away, losing his grip on his weapon in the process. Breathing heavily, he slowly backpedaled even farther. _Damn it, this isn't working!_ he thought. _How do I take her down?_

Whatever substance that cursed armor was made out of, he couldn't do anything against it. Even the Bakusai Tenketsu had failed—in the exact same way it failed whenever he tried to use it on a material that was alive.

His contemplation was abruptly cut off, as a flash of his danger sense made him dive for cover. A second later, that entire area exploded into a blazing inferno. A quick glance confirmed the source as Sailor Mars, who was looking a bit vexed that her latest attempt to take a potshot at them had failed.

Ryouga smiled humorlessly. _Well I'm sorry,_ he thought. _But I'm not just going to stand here and let you... shoot... at..._

_Wait! Wait, that might actually work!_

It wasn't really much of a plan... but nothing he had thrown at this monster seemed to be working. Turning away from the armored youma, he made a break toward the building on which Sailor Moon was standing.

The question now was simple. What could he say to make a girl very angry with him, very quickly?

And, of course, that question led naturally to another one. _What would Ranma say to her?_

Already he could hear heavy footfalls coming from behind him, as the armored youma gave chase. Fortunately, all it took was a brief recollection of various arguments between Ranma and Akane, combined with a brief glance at the blonde Senshi, and the answer just about dropped itself into his lap.

"Hey!" he shouted as he ran, pointing a finger at Sailor Moon, who turned in puzzlement. "You! Flat-chested girl!"

_Never let it be said,_ mused Ryouga, as the blonde Senshi hurled the Moon Tiara down at him with an outraged squawk, _that I wasn't willing to learn from the masters._ The glowing disc sliced toward him with deadly speed, even as he could hear the youma pounding in pursuit. This was going to be tight.

Just as the tiara was about to hit him, he swung his hand up underneath it, taking hold of it and redirecting its path. He spun it around him like a discus thrower, building up as much momentum as he could. And then, with the charging youma just a few feet away from him, he threw it with all his might.

The ancient weapon of Moon Kingdom magic shot toward the oncoming Inquisitor, propelled by the raw strength of one of Nerima's most powerful martial artists. Its velocity was such that it seemed less a disc and more a long streak of furiously glowing light. It caught the youma right in the midsection, cutting her instantly in two and sending the top half spinning wildly through the air, spraying youma dust in all directions.

Ryouga glanced back up at Sailor Moon, who was standing with mouth slightly agape, as though trying to piece together how she should feel about one enemy tricking her into helping take out yet another enemy. But the lost boy didn't have time to find out what she decided; the pause in the tiara assault had allowed the earth-fist youma time to get her feet back under her, and she sent one of her attacks exploding out of the ground at him.

But this time, he was ready, leaping over the fist as it came toward him, then rolling down the length of its "arm" and sprinting toward the Inquisitor.

* * *

Ranma swore under his breath, dodging wildly as "Akane" mounted a relentless attack. He tried to counter, slipping under a punch and driving a kick toward her knee. But she jumped over it, her own leg lashing out in a kick that Ranma was hard-pressed to dodge.

He knew, intellectually, that this wasn't really Akane, of course. He could certainly force himself—using his _conscious_ mind—to try and beat the dirty impostor to a pulp. But as he knew all too well, in a fight like this, conscious thought was _far_ too slow a thing to rely on.

He was a martial artist. He had spent a _lifetime_ ingraining his actions and reactions, pushing them deep into his subconscious. But now the youma's trick was playing haywire with all of that. He had to _think_ about his strikes, had to constantly override the protective reflex that knew how deadly these attacks would be against the real Akane.

It cost him only the tiniest fraction of a second to do so... but against a foe of this level, that tiny fraction of a second was a devastating disadvantage.

It wouldn't have even been so bad if it were just Akane's _image_ that the Darkmistress had taken, Ranma thought, as he defended himself against the youma's continued attack. No, the eerie likeness extended all the way down to the little things, like the way she moved, the tilt of her head. Everything about her simply _screamed_ "Akane!" to him—which made the truth all the more unsettling.

Suddenly, a burst of roses made the Darkmistress back off in her attack, and Ranma gave a half-grin. _Well that's one problem with her little trick,_ he thought. _Tuxedo-guy here doesn't have any feelings for Akane, so it only half-works..._

Then he blanched a little, realizing what he'd just inadvertently thought. _Uh, not that I have any feelings for the uncute tomboy either!_ he hurriedly clarified to himself.

The pigtailed fighter, the masked vigilante and the illusion-clad youma all circled each other warily. Ranma licked his lips, feeling notably less in control of things than he liked, but still determined to win one way or another. His eyes met with "Akane's," and he stared deep into them, trying with all his perception to find some hint of the evil he knew was lurking behind that guise. For several seconds they locked gazes in their battle of wills.

Then she smiled. She smiled _the_ smile, the warm, radiant smile that had made Ranma's heart do flip-flops on the few, precious occasions that he had received it from the real Akane. It was that _exact_ smile, perfectly replicated on the face of a monster.

And then she lunged toward him once again.

* * *

Ryouga pounded along the street toward his target, ducking under another attack by the Moon Tiara as he ran. The Inquisitor he was attacking drove her arms into the ground again and again, sending pillar after pillar of earth at him, but Ryouga had figured out the timing to them now. He swerved back and forth around them even as they exploded from the ground.

He could see that the youma was beginning to get flustered, jumping back in an attempt to keep the distance, but Ryouga was faster. _Just need to take her out, and her partner,_ the lost boy thought. _Then I can focus on these "Senshi."_

A feeling of grim satisfaction swept through him, causing him to run even harder, propelling himself toward a goal well in sight. At this point, it was practically in the bag. He already knew exactly how he would defeat this one, and his thoughts were already running ahead to the best way to handle the magical girls.

It was then that his danger sense went absolutely ballistic.

Sometimes the "feel" of his sixth sense was faint—a fleeting impression, like a quiet whisper. Other times it was more distinct—a sharp jolt, like a shouted warning. But this time it _screamed_ at him, with near-deafening force: _movemovemovemoveMOVE!_

Caught right in mid-run, he nevertheless threw everything he had into a last-instant attempt to change his course. He twisted the foot that had contact with the ground, using the meager leverage to try and fling himself to one side. He threw his arms around in concert with the motion, fighting for every last bit of torque.

Then, as if in slow-motion, he saw it. A sphere of black energy, plummeting down from directly overhead. He continued his spin, straining every muscle in his body away from the attack. With wide eyes, he tracked the projectile as it descended, passing within an inch of his chest.

And then it hit the ground, detonating. Ryouga was flung through the air by the force of the blast, flipping end over end, then crashing back down to the street and sliding across the pavement before finally coming to a stop.

Shakily, the lost boy pulled himself to his feet, his eyes fixed on the gaping crater that stretched out where he had just been. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted up, up, up to where the attack had originated.

He hung there, floating effortlessly in midair, his cold blue eyes looking down on all of them, his mouth twisted into a sneer. One hand was still smoking from discharging the blast, the smoldering tendrils wafting up around his grey uniform, past his short blond hair.

Then he glanced away from Ryouga, over to where the Darkmistress was standing, and at last he spoke. "I gave you fair warning that I would be watching you..." he said. "Yet it seems that you have lost control of this situation regardless. Now, however..."

He swept the battlefield with his gaze, taking stock of all the combatants. "Now, this little farce is over."

Ryouga felt his throat go dry, remembering what Beneda had told them about her masters in the Dark Kingdom. He knew that there was only one person this new opponent could be.

Jadeite had arrived.


	12. Full Measure

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Full Measure

Jadeite's sudden arrival caused Ranma to do a rapid reevaluation of his strategy. His gaze flickered across the remaining combatants. Tuxedo Kamen and the Darkmistress were squared off against both him and each other. The Senshi and the last two Inquisitors were further down the street, spreading out as they reacted to this new turn of events. And there, climbing back to his feet over by ground zero, was Ryouga.

In the space of a second Ranma weighed the positions of the players, the possible actions they might take, and the threat that each posed. In the second after that, he made his decision.

He leaped through the air, using Tuxedo Kamen's head as a stepping stone, driving the man's top hat down over his eyes in the process. From there he aimed himself toward where Ryouga stood, calling back over his shoulder at the other two as he went. "Sorry, guys! Bigger fish!"

Behind him, he saw the Darkmistress try to take advantage of her temporarily-blinded enemy by shooting her lightning at the masked man. He, for his part, went into a desperate evasive pattern as he yanked his hat off his head.

Ranma heard one of the Sailor girls cry out "Tuxedo Kamen!" and then caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye, rushing in that direction. But most of his attention was already focused on the most recent arrival to the party.

The pigtailed fighter skidded to a stop next to Ryouga, a fair distance away from the still-smoking crater. "Thought maybe you could use a hand, P-chan..." he remarked.

Ryouga shot him a dirty look. "Keep out of this, Ranma!" he growled. "I don't need... you... to..." his voice trailed off as he took another long look up at the man hovering over them. Craning his neck, Ranma looked as well.

The Dark General wore _power_ about him like a cloak, the feel of it practically choking the air. It wasn't a ki aura, not like the ones Ranma was familiar with, but it was palpable nonetheless, and it reeked of magic. The blond man hung there, arms crossed as he floated effortlessly, looking down as though regarding a pair of ants crawling around on the sidewalk.

Ranma felt a chill run down his spine. Beside him, Ryouga licked his lips. "Then again..." he allowed slowly. "It... might not be such a bad idea. Just to... you know... make the fight go faster."

"Right," agreed Ranma, as he watched the lost boy step back into a fighting stance. "Don't want to keep the girls waiting."

Even as Ranma spoke, Jadeite began to descend, finally touching down with a tiny swirl of dust at his feet. He then walked toward them, until he was only a few feet away. Crossing his arms, he looked down imperiously at the two boys. "So. You are the ones who have been giving the Black Section such trouble," he mused. "I expected something a bit... more."

Ranma snorted, stepping back into a fighting stance himself. "Bring it on, Blondie," he said. "We'll just see who's gonna disappoint who."

Jadeite raised an eyebrow at that. There was a moment of silence as the three of them regarded each other, during which Ranma's mind was thinking furiously. The Dark General stood at ease, unconcerned, watching the two martial artists with an expression of near-boredom.

Ranma glanced over at Ryouga, a quick agreement passing between them. Their initial line of attack was decided without words. It was communicated in an instant, in the meeting of the eyes, in the positioning of their guard, in the shift of their weight. It could only have been detected by someone who knew their styles as well as they each knew the other's—through long, painful experience.

And then they attacked.

Ryouga took the lead, launching himself straight at Jadeite, while Ranma cut left to flank the Dark General, angling in from the side. The lost boy arrived first, showering Jadeite with blow after blow. But Jadeite merely levitated a few inches into the air, floating quickly backward to keep out of Ryouga's range, while occasionally leaning around any attacks that got too close. Their foe's expression was one of mild curiosity, as he observed the blows being thrown at him.

Then Ranma arrived, with a series of lightning-fast kicks that forced Jadeite to change his course and veer away. The two boys pressed their attack furiously, catching the Dark General in a pincer between them, until he was forced to uncross his arms and block some of their techniques.

Jadeite continued to give ground, fending them off with one arm when necessary. At the same time, he flexed the fingers of his other hand, drawing dark power into his palm. Ranma let out a hiss of breath. _He's charging up for another one of those big blasts!_

The pigtailed fighter intensified his attacks, trying to interrupt the General before he could fire. But it was in vain. Jadeite thrust his palm out toward them, releasing the accumulated magical power in a huge burst.

Both martial artists leaped aside, the attack blazing through the space between them. It shot down the street, eventually striking a parked car and ripping it apart in an explosion of magical energy and exploding gasoline.

Nor did Jadeite relinquish the offensive. He continued to shower them with more blasts of magic from both hands—less powerful than the first one, but coming rapid-fire now. The near misses ripped through the air, blowing large chunks out of the storefronts behind the two boys, as they struggled to keep one step ahead of the onslaught.

Ranma ducked low under one of the bursts, then jumped backward as another slammed into the street where he had just been crouching, showering him with debris. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryouga rip two fistfuls of headbands from around his forehead and hurl them at their opponent.

The spinning projectiles scythed toward the Dark General. Then, the instant before they hit, something shimmered through the air, centered around Jadeite's outstretched palm. The next thing Ranma knew, the bladed fabric was deflecting harmlessly against some kind of barrier.

It was mostly invisible—although each time it was struck, the pigtailed fighter could see faint ripples in the air that suggested its circular outline. Jadeite was using one hand to maintain it, while using the other to continue his attacks.

Ranma dodged, while sizing up this new development. _He's got an energy shield too, huh?_ he thought. _That's... gonna be a pain to deal with._

And worse, there was no telling what else the General might be keeping up his sleeve...

* * *

The Darkmistress snarled, leaping quickly backward across the rooftops, dodging a flurry of roses and a hurled Moon Tiara. Two enemies faced her, just as before... but unlike before, _these_ two enemies were acting in complete concert.

Tuxedo Kamen took the fore, keeping up a never-ending hail of roses, and also acting as a shield to prevent the youma from reaching close-combat with Sailor Moon. Taking advantage of this, the human girl was free to launch her own weapon at the Darkmistress with utter impunity. And while the roses were troublesome enough to avoid, that tiara was nothing short of deadly. Already she had had more than one close call.

Behind them, Sailor Mars was acting as a rearguard to keep the remaining Inquisitors at bay, sweeping back and forth across the rooftops with her flame. She was only just managing to hold her own—but she was preventing the two youma from giving the Darkmistress support.

The corpse-like youma thrust out her arms, discharging bolts of red lightning at both her assailants, driving them back a bit and giving her some breathing room. Involuntarily, she glanced down at the street below, where Jadeite was facing off against the two humans. _Curse him,_ she thought savagely. _That should be me facing them—and him dealing with these Senshi like he's supposed to!_

But she knew she could not press the issue. As much as she wanted revenge on those humans... she dared not cross Jadeite so openly.

Even though it meant that her chance to kill them would soon be lost for good.

Then the Moon Tiara was shooting toward her head again, and she drew her attention back to the threat at hand. She swerved around the Moon Kingdom weapon, and then, flexing her fingers, she moved to bring the fight closer to her foes.

* * *

Beneda cowered within the alleyway, terrified to watch what was going on outside, and yet unable not to. Jadeite. Jadeite had come after her _personally_. One of Queen Beryl's chosen. The very person whom she had orchestrated all this to try and appease. He had come to deal with this matter himself.

She looked on, breathless, as Ranma and Ryouga hurled themselves at him again and again, their arms and legs blurring in from every angle in countless techniques. The Dark General fended them off, sometimes blocking with his own hands, sometimes simply creating a force shield if they started to press him too hard. He spun back and forth, easily keeping the two at bay, often retaliating with bursts of magical power that sent them scrambling to evade.

Even as Beneda watched, a jump kick that Ranma had aimed at Jadeite's skull instead struck a force shield dead-on. The next second, pigtailed fighter was blasted violently away, the shield sending the force of his own kick recoiling back into his leg.

Immediately Jadeite spun to his left, twisting out of the path of Ryouga's lunging punch. The Dark General placed a hand between the boy's shoulder blades as he went by, discharging a quick magic blast directly into him that sent the boy flying. Then the blonde man ducked, as Ranma's leg sliced overhead from behind.

_He's playing with them..._ The realization swept over Beneda with a cold chill. _Letting them get so close, going hand-to-hand with them... those aren't his usual tactics. He's fighting them on their own level._

And despite that, they still hadn't managed to so much as touch him...

* * *

Ryouga let out a cry of pain as the magic blast exploded right into his back—a cry that was cut off as he hit the ground hard, tumbling end over end. Taking control of his momentum, he rolled back to his feet, only to see the Dark General simply hovering there, arms crossed.

"Is this it?" Jadeite asked. "After all the trouble you've given us... is this really the limit of your abilities?"

Ryouga bared his fangs in response, then launched himself at Jadeite again with a growl. The Dark General only gave him an amused smile, lifting a hand and forming an energy shield between them.

The lost boy swerved, trying to get around the barrier, but Jadeite simply moved his hand to follow. Ryouga attacked high, attacked low, searching for an opening. His arms and legs battered ceaselessly against Jadeite's magical protection, his bones aching from the reflected force of his own blows. Yet he could not get past the shield; every maneuver he attempted was instantly countered by a slight motion of Jadeite's arm.

And no matter what he tried, that _damned smug smile_ remained on his foe's face!

Roaring in fury, Ryouga abandoned his attempts to outmaneuver Jadeite. Drawing back his fist, he swung it with every ounce of strength he had, throwing all his weight into the blow, driving it all straight into the center of the shield.

The sound of the crash echoed through the air. Jadeite's eyebrows went up slightly, as the barrier shook from the colossal impact, violent ripples coursing through it. For a moment, time seemed almost to stand still, as Ryouga continued to push forward with all his might, his fist vibrating wildly against the shield of magical power...

...and then the reflection came, blasting back into Ryouga's arm and sending him spinning through the air until he slammed face-first into the pavement. Above him, he could hear the crackle of energy as Jadeite hurled another energy blast down at his prone form.

Then he felt Ranma's hands grab hold of him, as the pigtailed fighter dashed in with staggering velocity. He wrenched the lost boy out from under the descending attack, while using the same motion to flip himself _over_ it.

Ryouga used the momentum of Ranma's pull to twist himself upright, planting his foot and springing off to the left. Ranma, meanwhile, was spinning through the air directly toward Jadeite's still-erect shield. The General smiled, in anticipation of the inevitable collision—

—and then the magic blast that Jadeite had fired at Ryouga hit the pavement, detonating just as Ranma was in the perfect position. The pigtailed fighter rode the explosion upward, using it to make an impossible, last-instant, midair course change that carried him over the shield before Jadeite could react.

Immediately Ranma's hand shot down, his fingers digging deep into Jadeite's hair and latching hold. The young martial artist used the grip as a fulcrum, swinging all his accumulated momentum around in a wide arc as he drove his knee straight into the Dark General's face.

Jadeite reeled back through the air, his hovering becoming unsteady as he tried to put some distance between them. Although he left a few clumps of his hair behind, he succeeded in breaking away from Ranma—

—only to fly straight into a punch from Ryouga. The lost boy had anticipated his rival's maneuver, and had moved to cover Jadeite's escape route. His blow drove the General back toward Ranma again, the two boys converging at a run to trap their enemy between them.

Then, just before they reached him, the General shot straight up into the air. At the same time, he collected a huge surge of magical power and hurled it straight down along the path of his ascent. Both boys skidded to a stop, leaping quickly back the way they had come. Then the blast hit, ripping another huge crater into the ground, but by then both martial artists had gotten clear.

Floating about three stories above the street, Jadeite touched his jaw gingerly, wiping away the small trickle of blood that was running down from the corner of his mouth. He looked at his red-stained fingers for a moment, and then his eyes hardened.

"Very well," he said at last. "No more games."

Then, gritting his teeth and thrusting out his arms, he began to rain down torrents of destruction on them.

* * *

Running along the rooftops, the Inquisitor wrenched hard on the chain extending from her arm, guiding the heavy wrecking ball as it swung straight toward Sailor Mars' head.

The Senshi threw herself in a forward dive just in time, and the weapon ripped through the air just above her. But she had hardly done so when the other Inquisitor charged in at her from the side. Sailor Mars rolled away from the new attack, snapping off a few short bursts of flame as she went, but they did little to dissuade the oncoming youma. And by then the other Inquisitor had swung her wrecking ball around high, bringing it plummeting down at the girl.

Scrambling to her hands and knees, the Senshi lunged headlong in the only direction she could—off the roof. The youma hissed in annoyance as her wrecking ball smashed harmlessly into the building below. Still, she knew that the overall course of the battle was theirs. They had the human on the run.

The Inquisitor quickly reeled in her weapon, even as her partner leaped off the building in pursuit. With the fight back on the ground, Sailor Mars now had to face the full effect of her opponent's ability, as the youma used the force of her landing to drive both her arms deep into the earth.

Twin earthen fists exploded straight up from underneath Sailor Mars. The human jumped backward, but was still thrown to the ground as the two pillars clipped her feet. She tumbled away, making a desperate retreat as both youma pressed their attack.

All pretence of an offensive on the young Senshi's part had been abandoned; it was now nothing more than a rout. The two youma attacked her, and attacked her, and attacked her, each strike closer than the last. The girl's breath was coming in gasps now, and it was obvious that she couldn't keep ahead of them much longer. They pressed their attack even more viciously, hemming her in, going for the kill...

...and then, without warning, the area around Sailor Mars was swamped by a wave of thick mist, completely obscuring her from their sight.

The two Inquisitors whirled, to see the blue-clad figure of Sailor Mercury standing on an adjacent rooftop. She had one hand clutched to her side, in obvious pain, but the other hand held out resolutely toward the battlefield, keeping up her concealment spell.

Then Sailor Mars jumped out of the mist, taking a defensive position next to the now-recovered Senshi. As soon as she did so, Sailor Mercury dropped to one knee, and the mist faded. Evidently, it took a toll on her to keep it up in her injured state.

_Two on two, now..._ the Inquisitor thought. _Still, one is already injured._

_We're wearing them down..._

* * *

Countless bolts of dark magic poured down from the sky, each one blasting deep into the street below. Ranma ran, dove, twisted and contorted himself to thread through the pounding bombardment. Ryouga, further down the street, was doing likewise.

The pigtailed fighter risked a glance upward, to see that Jadeite had drifted slightly lower, decreasing the range—and decreasing the time that the martial artists had to dodge. He was still far too high to attack directly, though. It would be impossible to dodge his attacks in midair; if they jumped at him, he would easily shoot them down before they got within striking distance.

But such thoughts were abruptly shoved to the back-burner, as Ranma frantically cut his forward run, flinging himself into a series of backflips to avoid Jadeite's latest pattern of attack. The last flip, he had to dig his fingertips into the concrete and twist into an awkward, sideways cartwheel as the General corrected for that evasion too.

Dust and flying shrapnel choked the air to every side, as he fought to keep one step ahead of their foe. _Gotta think of something, quick!_ he told himself. _We're not gonna be able to keep this up much longer!_

He continued to run, circling, trying to match his course against Ryouga's on the other side of the Dark General so that their enemy would have trouble trying to track both of them at the same time. _Just one opening... I just need one opening!_

And then he saw a chance. Jadeite's attention seemed to linger a little too closely on Ryouga, for a little too long—and Ranma immediately acted. Swerving to run directly at the hovering sorcerer, he launched himself into the air, hurtling up at his target.

Then, just before he reached the Dark General, Jadeite calmly swung his hand behind himself. And, without even looking, he discharged a quick burst straight into Ranma's chest.

It felt as though Pantyhose Taro had stomped on him. Ranma howled, the force of the detonation stopping his ascent and blasting him back groundward. Even as he fell, he saw Jadeite turn, charging up for a second, even more powerful attack.

The General thrust both hands down at the falling Ranma, unleashing an immense stream of magical power. The martial artist raised his arms in a hopeless attempt to block—

—and then a yellow-and-black blur slammed into Ranma from the side. The lost boy grabbed hold of his rival as they collided in midair, twisting him out of the path of the blast... and then hurling him right back up at Jadeite once again.

Ranma's body skimmed just along the edge of the beam of magic, and he saw Jadeite's eyes widen at the sudden reversal. Then the pigtailed fighter was on him, grabbing the Dark General by the wrist and using the hold to twist himself around, driving his foot straight upward into the General's jaw.

* * *

A short grunt of pain escaped Jadeite's lips as his head was snapped back by the force of the kick. He reeled in midair, bright spots flashing across his vision.

Nor, despite his _complete inability to fly_, did the human let up the assault. As this 'Ranma' fell from the first kick, he grabbed hold of Jadeite's ankle, using it to flip himself underneath the Dark General and back up behind him, planting another kick into the man's rib cage.

Jadeite whirled, hand outstretched, trying to get a shield in between them. But the boy was in too close. He caught the arm on its way around, using it to twist himself behind the General again and deliver a spinning elbow to the side of his head.

It went on and on, the human springing and whirling around him in an unbelievable display of aerial combat. However, the intricate acrobatics required to keep himself aloft—and out of Jadeite's reach—were limiting the opportunities he had to attack. And Jadeite was getting his feet back under him now, his guard re-solidifying as he began to roll with the blows. Soon, it was Ranma who was on the defensive.

At last, Jadeite managed to get a force shield up in front of one of Ranma's kicks. The recoil sent the boy flying away, toward the top of a nearby building. Smiling, Jadeite raised his hand, charging another blast to send after him.

Then he heard something coming at him from the side. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see another attack from the human's ally.

And it was... but not quite of the sort he had been expecting. Instead of a bandanna-clad human, the sight that greeted his eyes was one of the abandoned _cars_, flipping end over end as the massive hunk of metal hurtled toward him.

Jadeite's eyes widened, and he spun as fast as he could, unleashing his charged-up blast into the oncoming vehicle. His magic tore the car in half, detonating the gas tank as the two pieces shot by on either side of him. The explosion filled the air around the General with blazing fire, and he threw up his arms to try and protect himself.

And then Ranma was there, leaping straight through the flames to get at him, his legs scything long, fiery trails in the air as he slammed a kick into the side of Jadeite's head, then used the force of that kick to swing him back around into another one.

"Hope you liked your time flying around up here!" the human shouted, as he attacked. "Because you're—" He grabbed Jadeite by the head, driving both his knees into the General's face. "—going—" He switched the grip to his foe's collar, delivering a punch that knocked Jadeite practically horizontal. "_—down!_" And with that, he stomped down with both feet directly into Jadeite's torso.

The Dark General fell. Pain was blossoming all over his body, his control over his flight spell momentarily broken. He struggled to reactivate it, and at last managed to slow his descent, taking aim at the human still high above him—

—just as a flying kick crashed into him from the side. Jadeite was flung through the air once more, until at last he hit the ground, tumbling end over end before finally reaching a stop.

With an effort, Jadeite forced himself back up to his hands and knees. He knew he had only moments. Already he could hear rapid footfalls, as the bandanna-wearing human followed up his kick with a charge straight at him.

There was only one option left. He hadn't wanted to use it unnecessarily—not in a battle as open and chaotic as this, with so many potential attackers. The amount of concentration it required cut dangerously into his situational awareness. And worse, it would be all for nothing if these foes had the proper counterspells.

But at this point, he had little choice but to try.

He lifted his head, locking eyes with the oncoming human, who was pounding toward him, fist upraised. Then Jadeite focused his will, extended his hand... and made a small lifting gesture.

And just like that, the human was no longer charging. Instead he hung suspended in midair, his legs churning uselessly beneath him. "...the _hell?_" was his incredulous reaction, as he tried futilely to twist himself free of Jadeite's invisible grip.

Jadeite's response was to laugh. "It's called telekinesis, boy," he explained. Then he thrust out with his hand, sending the human shooting away as though he had been fired from a cannon.

* * *

Beneda's hands dug into the sides of the alley wall, as she peeked around its corner to watch the raging battle. So many times it had seemed as though Ranma and Ryouga were inches from death, and yet each time they had pulled through, managing to continue their grueling, all-out war.

The youma's breath had caught in her throat when she had seen Ranma actually _topple_ Jadeite, sending him plummeting earthward right into Ryouga's waiting attack. _Could they... actually do it?_ she wondered. _Could those two actually beat even a Dark General?_

And what if they did? What would _that_ mean for her? This was her master, the one whose wrath she was attempting to placate! She knew that Jadeite would be more than willing to write off the loss of any number of his subordinates if it resulted in the Senshi's death. She had been counting on it. But a _personal_ defeat?

What was she supposed to do?

Those worries, however, were suddenly interrupted by much more visceral ones. As she watched, Ryouga's follow-up charge was stopped cold by a simple gesture from Jadeite, lifting the human up into the air. Then, with another motion, Ryouga was sent hurtling away at a horrifying velocity.

His body smashed into the wall of a store right next to her, punching straight through it. She heard a flurry of subsequent crashes as he plowed through the building's interior walls, the sounds coming so fast that they seemed to blur into one, only ending as he burst out the building's other side.

Beneda ran down the alley to the other end, looking frantically for Ryouga. She soon spotted him, crumpled on the ground in a heap, with a toppled telephone pole lying across him—evidently what had stopped his flight.

Even as she ran toward him, though, he was starting to move, pulling himself slowly back to his feet. He stumbled, staggered, coughed up a little blood... but still somehow managed to stand.

Then he shook himself angrily, clenched his fists, bared his fangs, and with an angry battle cry he ran to rejoin the fight.

Except that he ran in the exact wrong direction.

Beneda wasted precious seconds in disbelief, before belatedly realizing what was going on. "No Ryouga!" she finally screamed, starting to chase after the disappearing figure of the lost boy. _"You're going the wrong way!"_

* * *

Ranma's feet had barely touched ground when he saw Jadeite fling Ryouga through the building without even touching him. _Aw crap,_ was the thought that immediately went through the pigtailed fighter's mind. _Can't let him catch me in that!_

He sprang forward, bearing down on the Dark General in a blur of red. Jadeite spun to meet him, hand outstretched. It was a contest of pure speed, held between the two already-injured combatants.

Ranma barely managed to reach his foe in time. He twisted himself sideways, leaping past his foe before the General could get his hand around and grab him. As he shot by, he managed to deliver a spin kick to the back of Jadeite's head.

Jadeite rolled with the blow, taking to the air again as he skimmed rapidly along the street. The pigtailed fighter jumped back after him—but this time Jadeite got his hand around in time, and Ranma was caught in mid-leap. The next instant, he too was hurled like a human bullet toward one of the now-deserted buildings.

The young martial artist crashed through a large storefront window in a shower of glass—which he immediately turned to his advantage. His hands shot out, plucking the jagged shards out of the air and throwing them back at Jadeite with machine-gun-like speed.

Snarling, the Dark General raised a shield to deflect the attack—and the force propelling Ranma promptly vanished. _Hah!_ the boy thought, as he smashed through the store's first interior wall. _Looks like he can't do the lifting thing and the shield at the same time!_

Without Jadeite's continuously applied force, Ranma only broke through the first wall, and put a serious dent in the second. From there, he crumpled forward onto his hands and knees. His vision was swimming, but he forced himself to roll sideways, taking cover behind the remains of the wall. _If he can't see me, he can't grab me... I hope._

After a few seconds spent gathering himself, he crawled over and peeked around the edge of the hole his body had made. Jadeite was still standing there, apparently having taken the opportunity to pull himself together a bit as well.

For a while longer, the only sound that Ranma could hear was his own labored breathing. He could feel the sweat trickling down his body, mingling with the blood from where the glass had cut into his back. His ribs ached fiercely from the blast he had taken earlier, combined with this latest attack.

Then Jadeite broke the silence. "Very well, human," he rasped out. "If you're determined to just hide in there..."

As he spoke, the Dark General raised both his arms. A moment later, two of the abandoned cars drifted over, floating in circles around him.

"...then _have a taste of your own medicine!_" With two savage motions, Jadeite hurled both vehicles. Ranma's eyes bulged as the metal projectiles shot toward him at impossible speeds. He threw himself to the right, the first one just barely missing him as it tore through the building like a sledgehammer through tissue paper. Then Ranma dove for the ground, flattening himself out as the second howled by overhead. The air displacement from each pulled violently at him.

Breaking into a run, the pigtailed fighter dashed madly through the store, even as Jadeite sent car after car crashing in after him. Soon the building itself began to crumble from the damage, the entire structure falling in on itself. Ranma just barely managed to reach the far wall—and break through it to the adjoining store—before the store he was in came crashing down completely.

He ran on, dodging furiously, Jadeite's assault coming even faster now. Ranma sprinted through that store as well, jumping, rolling, diving between the hurtling automobiles. He used every scrap of cover he could find to stay out of Jadeite's sight as he ran—sometimes even using the oncoming projectiles themselves. He fled through that fast-disintegrating store as well, and into the next one—

—and then froze. Too late, he had sensed a single, faint presence.

This store was not entirely abandoned.

Swearing violently, knowing that Jadeite's next volley was already on its way—that every fraction of a second might mean life or death—he ran as fast as he could toward where he had sensed it from. On arriving, he saw that it was a young boy, maybe four or five, cowering behind a row of shelves.

Already the cars were exploding through the walls, tearing through the shelves in their path as though they weren't even there. Ranma grabbed the kid, then sprang up over the first car, ricocheted off the ceiling in a diagonal to avoid the second one, spun around the third. He couldn't go as fast holding onto the kid like that, but he still managed to roll underneath the fourth—

—the fifth got him. He _almost_ managed to avoid it, but it clipped him on the way by. He managed to throw the kid clear just before impact... and then everything became a whirling kaleidoscope of pain. He was spinning, spinning, the ground drawing nearer and nearer...

But he never landed. An invisible hand grabbed him in mid-fall, yanking him out of the store and back into the street, pulling him until he was face-to-face with the Dark General once more. The blond-haired man was smirking victoriously as he held Ranma in midair, just out of reach.

"So..." Jadeite mused. "It seems you are somewhat durable. Let us try something a bit more... definite this time." With that he raised his hand, and Ranma was propelled skyward, ascending until he reached a dizzying height.

Far, _far_ below, Ranma could see Jadeite's tiny, ant-sized figure twisting its hands, and then he felt his body being rotated. He thrashed futilely, trying to right himself somehow, but soon he was held completely upside down.

Then, with a lurch, Jadeite drove him back down toward the street, headfirst.

Wind stung Ranma's eyes as he accelerated and accelerated and accelerated. He tried again and again to somehow twist free, but it was no use. Jadeite held him on his course, speed increasing with every second, as he neared the devastating impact—

—and then, without warning, Jadeite was engulfed in a veritable _swarm_ of spinning yellow-and-black bandannas. The Dark General jerked away, instinctively throwing up his arms to protect himself as the bladed fabric slashed into him. One cut him just above the eyes, another barely missed his throat, while many more carved up his arms and chest, staining his uniform red. Ryouga was charging straight at Jadeite, hurling his weapons with every step.

Jadeite's grasp on Ranma had been broken by the attack, and the young martial artist immediately flipped himself into a spread-eagle position, maximizing his air drag as much as he could. At the same time, he angled his fall, making a few slight adjustments to his course. Thanks to Jadeite, he would still have a huge amount of momentum at the end of this... and he knew _exactly_ where he wanted to deliver it.

The Dark General had managed to get his shield up, and was warding off the bandanna swarm, when Ranma dropped down on him like a hawk. Jadeite glanced up at the last second, and desperately raised his shield to meet him—which allowed the bandannas to cut into his torso once more. For his part, Ranma twisted into a midair somersault, and then swung his leg straight down onto the barrier in an immensely powerful axe kick.

The shield vibrated crazily under the impact, flashes of magical energy discharging along its surface, smoke rising up from it—and for a moment Ranma thought he might actually smash through it. But the barrier held, reflecting the accumulated force back into Ranma's leg.

Which had been the original plan. Ranma angled his body so that the force on his leg simply threw him into a backflip. He spun through the air, twisting between two bandannas as they buzzed in to carve more gashes into Jadeite's torso. While upside-down, Ranma drove a his fingers down into the street below and swung himself around, redirecting the force of his flip into a kick that caught Jadeite in the side of the knee.

Ranma felt something snap, and the Dark General stumbled backward. The blond-haired man used his flight spell to try and catch himself, as he fought for balance...

And then Ryouga was there, using the crouching Ranma's head as a stepping stone as he leaped over his rival. He grabbed Jadeite's flailing arms at the wrists, pulling the General in toward him as hard as he could, while at the same time kicking out with both feet straight into the man's chest.

There was an audible _crunch_, and then Jadeite went flying away, the force of the kick tearing him out of Ryouga's grasp. He tumbled along the ground, finally coming to rest on the other side of the street.

Both martial artists ran after him, aiming to beat him to a bloody pulp. They would give him _no_ chance to regain the initiative. As one, both of them raised their fists, striking downward toward his prone body—

—just as his body dissolved gracefully into purple light, vanishing. Both their punches slammed harmlessly into the concrete.

_Wha—?_ Ranma thought, stunned. Then his eyes widened. _Oh crap, it's teleportation! He's—_

The two martial artists whirled, to see Jadeite, now propped up on one knee and much further down the street. Before they could do anything, the Dark General lifted both his arms, and Ranma and Ryouga were dragged into the air simultaneously.

The lost boy's hands shot to his headbands... but Jadeite didn't give him the chance to use them. Flipping his hands over, he slammed them both back down into the road with earthshaking force, each impact creating a small crater. And he kept up the pressure, his teeth clenched, a vein throbbing in his forehead, crushing them with all the magical force he could bring to bear.

"Now..." he rasped, raw venom filling every word. "Die. _Die like the bugs that you are!_"

* * *

Back in her hiding place in the alleyway after chasing down Ryouga, Beneda had formed the shuriken on her hand before she even quite realized what she was doing.

When her conscious mind caught up, she couldn't even explain it to herself. The idea of _personally_ attacking a Dark General was suicidal enough in its own right—but even more so was the act of defiance it would represent. There would be no more chance of reclaiming her place after an act like that. She would be an enemy of the Dark Kingdom without any chance of recovery. And a sheer, unreasoning terror gripped her at the very thought.

And yet she _wanted_ to do it. That was the truly terrifying thing. The instant she had realized the situation—the instant she had seen both Ranma and Ryouga crushed into the ground—she had felt the urge to come to their aid. She didn't _want_ to see them die like this! She didn't!

Slowly her arm began to rise toward Jadeite, as her thoughts waged their bloody battle within her. She was trapped. Even if she _did_ try to side with the humans... she had already committed herself by starting this deception. She knew it could not be kept up forever. Sooner or later they would find out. They would _know_ what she had done to them.

Somehow, that idea scared her almost as much as what the Dark Kingdom would do to her.

And yet she _still_ sighted down her arm, across the trembling blade that she could launch with a thought. It would be so easy. Just attack.

Just turn her back on everything she had ever known.

Just resign herself to a fate worse than death.

Beneda clenched her teeth. And sighted her weapon.

And hesitated.

And hesitated.

And then, in a flash of movement, someone shot into view, running down the street at Jadeite from behind.

* * *

The crushing force of Jadeite's power was immense, grinding Ranma down until he felt as though his bones were about to crack. He could feel each of his heartbeats pounding in his brain, and a haze of red was encroaching on his vision.

With Herculean effort, he managed to lift an arm slightly, stretching it forward before the incredible pressure crushed it back down. Digging in his fingers, he used the grip to pull himself, inch by inch, along the shattered road toward Jadeite. The distance between them might as well have been across the ocean in Ranma's current state, but he dragged himself onward nonetheless.

It was getting harder and harder to force air in and out of his lungs now. He didn't think he had much time left... but he didn't really feel any fear. Just a dull anger that it was going to end like this. He twisted his head, trying to give the Dark General one last glare...

...and saw something that made his blood freeze in terror.

Ukyo, running at Jadeite from behind, battle spatula upraised.

She drew nearer and nearer, and for a moment Ranma almost thought she would catch the Dark General off-guard. But even as focused on them as he was, he detected the threat at the last second. Whirling around, he managed to snap off a single hasty blast into Ukyo's chest.

Ranma's heart fairly stopped. The scene played out in slow motion before him. The bolt of magic detonated, flinging the limp body of his childhood friend through the air like a rag doll.

And for that one, fatal moment, Jadeite's attention was _completely_ off Ranma.

"You_ son of a bitch!_" The scream tore itself from Ranma's throat, as raw, molten fury boiled through him. He planted a foot under him, and launched himself murderously toward the General.

Jadeite tried to spin back around... but Ranma covered the distance between them so fast that he fairly vanished from sight. He poured all that accumulated force into a punch that crashed into General's jaw, breaking it with a single blow. A second punch slammed into Jadeite's gut, jackknifing his body.

The Dark General crumpled toward the ground—but Ranma did not let him fall. He grabbed hold of Jadeite with one hand, lifting him back up and holding him in place. Then, calling on all his strength, calling on all his anger, he drew back his other hand.

And he began to punch.

_Countless_ punches, tearing into Jadeite so fast they could not be seen. The only thing visible was the effect on Jadeite's body as he jerked and writhed under the assault. Ranma punched. And punched. And punched. And punched.

And then, knowing he could only manage one more, wound his fist all the way back and swung it with all his might.

The sound of the impact was like a gunshot. Jadeite spun crazily through the air, flipping end over end, until he finally hit the ground face-first, flopping into a broken heap.

Ranma, for his part, crumpled to his knees, doubling over and gasping for breath. All the damage he had sustained during the fight was catching up with him once again, combined with the exertion of that final push. Colorful spots were swimming across his vision, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. His right arm felt as though it were on fire.

Still, he managed to slowly, painfully raise his head, looking over at Jadeite's fallen body. A tiny, vicious smile managed to tug at the corners of his mouth, as he confirmed that the General remained flat on the ground.

_Gotcha, you bastard._

* * *

The Darkmistress laughed as she fired her lightning down from the rooftops with both hands. Sailor Moon and Sailor Mars both scrambled to get out of the way, falling back into a huddled knot with Sailor Mercury and Tuxedo Kamen. They had joined ranks again, all of them completely on the defensive now, devoting everything they had just to staying alive.

Warily, the four humans backed away, watching for further attacks. The Darkmistress noticed, however, that the girls were having a hurried, whispered conference as they did so. Determined to break it up, she went on the offensive once more, leaping down to the ground and racing toward them, her power blasting away.

All of them moved to evade, scattering off in different directions: Sailor Moon to the left, Sailor Mars to the right, the injured Sailor Mercury backward, with Tuxedo Kamen staying close by her. The Darkmistress went after that pair, leaving the other two to her subordinates.

As the corpse-like youma closed, Sailor Mercury drew herself up, gritting her teeth, a look of determination on her face. _"Shabon Spray!"_ she called out, sending another wave of mist across everything in the vicinity.

The corpse-like youma smirked, as she looked into the murky cloud. _So desperate that they're trying to hide from us in their smokescreen..._ she thought. _A mistake they won't live to regret._

Using hand signals, she motioned the other two youma into the mist. Such tactics might work against lesser youma, but she had trained her Inquisitors in all manner of assassination skills, including killing without the aid of sight. In laying down a blind over the battlefield, she thought gloatingly, the Senshi had actually hobbled _themselves_ far more than their foes.

Silently as wraiths, the three youma moved forward. Although they stayed within a yard or two of each other, soon all they could see of their allies were dim outlines. In spite of herself, the Darkmistress shivered from the sudden cold. There was something unnatural about this fog, something that seemed to leech slowly away at the very power inside her.

Nevertheless, they continued on. Their every sense was alert, ready at any moment to attack. Glancing around, the Darkmistress looked for a moment over at the youma to her left—

—just in time to see the Moon Tiara come shooting through the mist, and with absolute, surgical precision, cut the Inquisitor's head clean off.

The Darkmistress's eyes went wide. And, as she felt the grains of wildly spraying youma dust bounce off her face, she realized the terrible underestimation she had made of the Senshi's magic. This fog _wasn't_ a two-way blind. They couldn't see where the Senshi were... but the Senshi were _perfectly_ able to target them.

And that realization led to another one: _We're in the middle of a killing field._

_"Out!"_ she screamed, the word tearing at her throat. "Out of the mist, _now!_"

The remaining youma obeyed without hesitation, turning and running for her life. The Darkmistress fled in a different direction, hoping to divide the pursuit. But she had hardly taken a few steps before instinct told her to hit the ground. An instant later, a flurry of roses hissed overhead.

Rolling back to her feet, she continued to run. She ducked and swerved blindly, trying to be a difficult target for the invisible attackers that were out there... somewhere. _How much has the mist expanded since we entered?_ she thought, looking wildly back and forth, knowing she could be cut down at any moment. _It didn't cover this much ground on our way in!_

Off to her side, the shifting tendrils of fog suddenly glowed a furious orange, carrying the light from a huge burst of flame. Immediately afterward, a cut-off scream informed her that she was the last youma remaining in this fight.

Then the outline of a building wall loomed into view, and she swerved instantly for it. She plowed into it with her shoulder, breaking through into the store on the far side... where the mist had not yet penetrated. Her dive carried her onward, sliding along the floor. She rolled over as she went, training both her hands back on the hole she had come through.

For several long seconds, nothing came through it. Slowly, she drew herself back to her feet, keeping well away from the opening as she caught her breath, trying to come up with a plan to turn this situation around.

The Senshi had her outgunned at this point; that much was clear. Even without this cursed mist, she would not have relished the thought of facing all four of those enemies by herself. No, at this point subtlety was her best chance for killing them.

Taking a deep breath, she began to creep deeper into the store, moving farther and farther away from the opening, while also activating a cloaking spell that she had designed personally—the most powerful one of its kind in the Dark Kingdom.

This was not over. She would wait patiently, until a suitable opportunity presented itself. The Senshi were welcome to hide in their mist. It just meant that she would need to keep out of sight for a little while as well.

* * *

Sailor Mercury peered at the side of the building through the blue tint of her now-lowered visor. She studied the readouts flashing in front of her eyes, made a few quick adjustments with the Mercury computer to compensate for the stealth magic that their foe was using, and watched as a wireframe representation of the Darkmistress superimposed itself on the wall, along with various graphs detailing her energy level and damage status.

Then she turned to Sailor Mars—who by now had charged up the Fire Soul at her fingertips to a quite impressive level. Sailor Mercury extended her arm, pointing to where her visor indicated the youma was standing. "There."

* * *

The section of wall in front of the Darkmistress suddenly exploded inward, as a stream of fire tore through it, raging directly at her. Desperately she threw herself to the side, but she was unable to dodge fully. The youma screamed as the magic flames ate away at the right side of her body, igniting her robe.

She rolled along the ground, thrashing, trying to put out the fire. Even through the horrible, searing pain, she knew that she had only seconds before the next attack. She rolled to her hands and knees and dove forward, just as a second Fire Soul ripped through the wall behind her.

The Darkmistress skidded along the floor... and she knew deep in the pit of her stomach that this time, she had lost. Her right arm and leg were hideously burned, barely functional, and her enemies could track her despite her best efforts to remain concealed. Her only hope now was escape.

She slammed her good hand to the ground, concentrating as hard as she could. A circle of magical energy, dark red, sprang into existence at her feet. This was her last resort. True teleportation, like that of a Dark General, was beyond her ability... but she did have one spell that was designed to recall her directly to her sanctum in the Devil's Keep.

It was just a question of whether she could cast it in time.

She clenched her eyes, focusing everything she had into enacting her desperate magic. Sailor Mars was doubtless charging up another Fire Soul at that very moment. It was a race.

The youma felt the writhing strands of magic falling into place, drawing closer and closer to completion. _Almost there, almost there..._ She clenched her teeth, straining as she had never strained before...

Then the largest Fire Soul yet exploded through the wall, radiating terrible heat, bearing down on her like the breath of a dragon.

* * *

Outside, Sailor Mercury peered through her visor, then glanced down at the Mercury computer to check the results of Sailor Mars' latest attack. She punched a few keys, then looked up.

"There's no more trace of her," she announced. "That one must have done the trick."

Sailor Mars nodded. "All right!" she said. "Then let's go wrap this up!"

* * *

As soon as Ryouga saw the berserker fury with which Ranma went after Jadeite, the lost boy knew that there was no way he was getting any further pieces of the Dark General for himself. Instead he pulled himself to his feet, ran over to where Ukyo lay, and knelt down beside her.

"Ukyo!" he said in an anxious tone, shaking her gently. "Hey, Ukyo!" His relationship with the girl might not have been as old or as deep as Ranma's was, but he still considered her a friend. If anything happened to her...

A soft groan rose up from the okonomiyaki chef, and she shifted slightly. "No, Ranchan..." she mumbled, almost unintelligibly. "Remember, today it's _pork_. It's _tomorrow_ that we serve squid tempura as the special..."

Ryouga let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-snort. At least _one_ of them was having a good dream—for Ukyo's idea of "good", at least.

Soon, Ranma came staggering over, swaying woozily and looking well more than half-dead. He sank heavily down to his knees next to the two of them. "Is she all right?" he demanded.

"She's a little banged up, but other than that she seems fine," answered Ryouga. "Well, except for her taste in men... but that's no worse than it ever was." He only realized how spent Ranma _really_ was when the pigtailed boy couldn't even muster the energy for a dirty look in reply.

After a while, Ranma spoke up again. "That's... good. Still, we gotta get her out of here." Ryouga opened his mouth to agree...

...then slowly closed it again, his eyes looking up to the rooftops.

Standing atop one of the nearby buildings, looking down at them, was the blonde-haired figure of Sailor Moon. Nearby stood Sailor Mercury, and on the opposite side of the street perched Tuxedo Kamen.

The lost boy slowly got to his feet, licking his lips. These odds were... not the best. Ranma would be of little use in a fight now, given how exhausted he was, and Ukyo was out cold. He was fairly confident he could take any one of them alone, but all three of them at once...

Suddenly he frowned, an unsettling apprehension starting to build in his gut. _Wait a minute... three?_ he thought, looking back and forth between Sailor Moon, Sailor Mercury, and Tuxedo Kamen.

Where was Sailor Mars?

* * *

Beneda leaned heavily against the alley wall, feeling sick to her stomach.

Relief had washed over her upon realizing that Ryouga, Ranma and Ukyo were all alive... but even that relief had felt _dirty_, in a way that she could not put words to. They had survived... but no thanks to her. She hadn't acted, and Ukyo had been hurt—perhaps badly.

She kept replaying the events back and forth in her mind, over and over again, trying to convince herself of what she would or wouldn't have done if Ukyo hadn't intervened. It seemed as though the question would drive her mad. The thought of how close the two boys had come to death...

Because of her...

With all her might she tried to block out the thoughts, to just _stop thinking._ It was too painful. She had _never_ had to deal with anything like this in the Dark Kingdom—and in that moment she wanted so very desperately to get back there.

In the Dark Kingdom, she had been _safe_. Safe from ever experiencing this kind of incomprehensible hurt, this sense that she had... _failed_ someone else. Safe from crazy humans who did terrible, terrifying things to you, like _caring_ what happened to you, and worse, making _you_ care what happened to them.

It was insane, she told herself. It was insane to think people could actually live this way. She repeated it like a mantra. Insane, insane, insane, insane...

Suddenly, a flurry of movement shook her out of her trance. Ryouga had broken away from Ranma and Ukyo, and was running... toward her. She frowned, puzzled. He was running like a madman, in fact, at a dead sprint, raw fear written across his features. _"Beneda!"_ he screamed out as he ran. _"Behind you!"_

The youma turned—and there, in the center of the alley, stood Sailor Mars. Her hands were clasped tightly together, a huge ball of fire blazing at her fingertips, her long black hair flying around her. Her eyes met Beneda's, and the youma quailed under her gaze—like that of an avenging goddess.

_"Fire... SOUL!"_

The blast roared down the alleyway, filling it completely, leaving no space where it could possibly be avoided. It ripped apart the walls on either side as it went, reaching out hungrily for her. Beneda threw her arms up futilely, knowing that it would not make the slightest difference—

—and then she felt a pair of hands clamp onto her shoulders. She was wrenched back through the air with incredible speed, just barely ahead of the onrushing flame. Ryouga swung her fully around to the opposite side of him, crushing her tightly to his chest, bending himself over her, wrapping his arms around her, as he braced himself.

Then the Fire Soul hit.

The lost boy let out a howl of agony, as the wall of searing flame broke across his back. He staggered, his knees almost buckling, but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. The stream of fire blazed around them, and even shielded by Ryouga's body, Beneda could feel the horrible, blistering heat as it raged past to burst out the mouth of the alley.

On and on it went, Beneda trembling against his chest in incomprehension, Ryouga's iron grip on her never once slacking. The fire burned, and burned, and burned away at him...

And then, at last, it was over—the fury of the flames finally spent.

Slowly, disbelievingly, Beneda raised her head. Ryouga was looking down at her. His legs were trembling, his eyes were glassy and unfocused, his breath was coming in short wheezes. The sickening stench of burnt flesh was beginning to permeate the air. "R- Ryouga?" she whispered, barely audible even to herself.

Ryouga's reply was a small, relieved little smile. Then he slumped forward.

"Ryouga!" Beneda screamed, her hands shooting clumsily to catch him, his weight bearing them both to the ground. She could not think. It felt as though her mind had been snapped in half by what had just happened. _"Ryouga!"_

* * *

_Oh, hell..._ With an effort, Ranma raised his head, looking over to where Ryouga lay crumpled in Beneda's arms. _This is really, really bad._

Self-confident though he was, even he knew that there was no way he could take on all four of those Senshi maniacs, not when he was as weak as this. Their last real hope had vanished when Ryouga had been taken down.

Still, he wasn't going out without a fight. Wobbling, he fought his way back to his feet, his vision blurring in and out of focus. He glared at the assembled Senshi, gritted his teeth, and then clenched his hands into fists.

* * *

Sailor Mars lowered her hands, a little unsettled in spite of herself. That... hadn't been the way she had expected things to go. What kind of villain jumped in front of a fireball for one of his minions?

But she steeled her resolve. It had been _them_ who had attacked the Senshi unprovoked, after all. Not to mention what they had done to poor Luna! If they wanted to surrender, she would hear them out... but until then, she wasn't going to drop her guard. In fact, for all she knew, he had only done that because the youma had been a vital part of his plan. There had to be a reason why they had recruited her from the Dark Kingdom, after all...

Even as she followed the train of thought, she saw that the pigtailed enemy was getting back to his feet, taking a fighting stance. The Senshi of flame narrowed her eyes. So, they wanted to play this to the end, then. She clasped her hands together, conjuring a point of flame there, ready to fire at a moment's notice...

...and then she crumpled like a puppet with her strings cut.

There had been no warning, no premonition of danger, no sense of anyone approaching. Only a soft poke between her shoulder blades, and another to her lower back. The next thing she knew, she was pitching forward, control over her limbs completely lost.

The ground rose up toward her, and she tried desperately to break her fall, but her arms simply refused to respond. But before she hit, a pair of strong hands caught her from behind, lowering her gently the rest of the way. "Quickly!" she heard a man's voice call out above her, calm but urgent. "Let's go!"

Even as he lowered her down, she saw the youma lift the burned boy and race away down the alley. At the same time, the pigtailed boy grabbed the girl at his feet, threw her over his shoulder, and began to stumble unsteadily toward the alley himself.

As he fled, Sailor Mars saw Tuxedo Kamen swoop into view. He looked over, and she saw his mouth twist into an angry expression when he saw her prone body. He ran after the retreating pair, but before he could catch up to them, a short-haired girl dashed out of the alley and launched herself toward him in a flying kick.

He caught the attack easily on his cane, and then the weapon extended to drive into her stomach, sending her flying back in the direction she had come. But doing so cost him valuable time, allowing the pigtailed boy to reach the alleyway, and he even managed to catch the short-haired girl with his free arm in the process. Tuxedo Kamen followed after them, moving in a blur of black.

Then a man stepped into view, interposing himself between Tuxedo Kamen and the retreating trio. He was tall, and looked older than the fighters he was protecting. His hair was short and dark, and he wore a pair of glasses. His hands were raised, palms outward. "Stay back," he said, his voice composed. "I've no desire to—"

At that point Tuxedo Kamen reached him, swinging his cane at the man's head in a blinding strike. But the man spun, flowing underneath the attack in a movement of impossible grace and speed, and the masked man shot harmlessly past him. _That's strange..._ thought Sailor Mars. _I thought that guy was trying to stop Tuxedo Kamen from—_

Then the black cane tumbled from Tuxedo Kamen's suddenly-limp fingers. His legs crumpled beneath him, dropping him to the ground, and he slid to a stop in the middle of the alley. _No way!_ Sailor Mars thought, her eyes widening. _I... I couldn't even see what he did to him!_

"Tuxedo Kamen!" Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury had reached the mouth of the alley, and were looking on in shock at the scene before them. Sailor Moon had her tiara out, ready to throw at a moment's notice. But the new arrival was simply backing away, covering the retreat of his allies as they made their escape.

Soon the enemies had vanished from sight. Unheeding of them, the two Senshi ran over to where their fallen comrades lay. Sailor Mercury knelt down to scan Sailor Mars with the Mercury Computer, while Sailor Moon started to shake Tuxedo Kamen frantically.

"What did he hit us with?" muttered Sailor Mars, craning her head to look up at Sailor Mercury while tuning out Sailor Moon's tearful babbling. "Some kind of magic? I can't move my arms or my legs..."

The blue-clad Senshi frowned, her eyes scanning back and forth across the Mercury computer's display. "No..." she said at last. "No, it's... not magic at all." Then she looked up. "I think it will fade eventually, but we ought to get out of here. We're in no condition to fight right now, and we don't know what kind of reinforcements are on their way."

Sailor Mars nodded. They needed to regroup, needed to figure out their next step. And they needed to find Luna—if the cat had even survived the enemy's attack.

Reaching down, Sailor Mercury pulled Sailor Mars to her feet, slinging the incapacitated girl over her shoulder. Seeing this, Sailor Moon proceeded to follow suit with Tuxedo Kamen, and together the four beleaguered defenders of love and justice made a hasty exit.

* * *

With a groan, the prone Inquisitor began to stir, her mind a dazed muddle.

What had happened to her? Fragments of memory tumbled through her head. She remembered a fight... A pigtailed human attacking her Mistress... Rushing to join the fight... Then that accursed Tuxedo Kamen arriving... And then the pigtailed fighter again... His fists beating away at her... His foot hurtling toward her head...

Then blackness.

Slowly the masked youma opened her eyes... and gaped at the sight that met them. She was still in the same street that she had been fighting in... but now it was completely wrecked. The road was cracked and shattered, with countless craters of various sizes scattered everywhere. One of the nearby buildings was burning, and a few others had been reduced to nothing but rubble. Even many of the ones that were still standing had numerous gaping holes blasted in their structure. She looked back and forth for signs of her allies... but could find none.

Except... except over there, lying sprawled out on the street, face-down...

A cold chill ran through her. No, she told herself, as she walked closer and closer. No, even the thought was utter foolishness. There was no way that it could possibly be...

Reaching the body, she knelt down and flipped him over, revealing the bloodied, almost-unrecognizable face of Jadeite.

_They... defeated a Dark General..._ The realization was a terrifying one. _A Dark General! What manner of beings are we facing?_

This, she knew, was something _far_ more than the minor scheming by no-name human sorcerers that they had been treating it as. This was no local inconvenience, to be cleaned up by a mere dozen youma. This had now become a strike directly against the heart of the Dark Kingdom itself.

And it would demand a proportionate response.

Leaning in closer, she saw that Jadeite was still breathing. He was alive—if just barely. After a moment's thought, she reached down and threw him over her shoulder. She would make a quick sweep, try to find as many other survivors as she could, and then head back.

The Darkmistress would know what to do.


	13. Rock Bottom

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Rock Bottom

Being knocked unconscious was not an altogether uncommon experience for Ukyo.

Granted, it was usually an even _more_ common experience for the average fighter who challenged her—that much was a point of pride. Still, while she was very good for her age, she wasn't quite at the top of the pack, and she had certainly suffered her fair share of defeats over her lifetime. As a result, the act of fighting her way back to the waking world had become a familiar one, and she did it with the efficiency of long practice.

The first thing she noticed was that her ribs were _killing_ her, and the pain blocked out any further observations for a few seconds. Still, she had never been one to be afraid of pain, and she quickly pushed past it, prying her eyes open and taking stock of the situation.

She was lying in a bed, which was more comfort than usually greeted her on waking up in such a way. Then, slowly, memories of the events leading up to her unplanned nap began to filter back to her. She struggled to sit up, desperate to find out whether Ranma was all right.

"Easy! Easy!" Looking over to where the voice had come from, she saw the bespectacled figure of Doctor Tofu moving quickly over to her bedside. "You should rest; that was a nasty hit you took."

Ukyo hesitated. Then, seeing the firm look in the doctor's eyes, she let out a small groan and flopped back down. "What happened?" she asked instead. "Did Ranchan beat that guy in the uniform?"

"Yes, so I understand," replied Tofu, nodding. "Akane and I didn't arrive until a bit later, but from what I've been told, after you broke the telekinetic hold of that 'General', Ranma pulverized him quite severely."

The okonomiyaki chef's face split into a beaming, almost giddy smile. She _had_ rescued Ranma... and then _he_ had come to her rescue in turn, beating up the jackass who had shot her! She could hardly have imagined a more perfect way for things to turn out!

Ukyo propped herself up a little, looking around for some sign of her fiancé, ignoring the spasms of pain that the action sent through her chest. She soon caught sight of him, lying on a bed on the other side of the room, asleep. "Is he all right?" she asked worriedly.

"He should be, eventually," was Tofu's response. "Still, he's severely bruised, and he put so much into his final Amaguriken attack that he pulled a tendon in his right arm. Not to mention a few cracked ribs from the car that hit him."

Then the doctor sighed. "Right now, he needs rest more than anything else. He was pushing himself to his utmost limits during that fight, and he collapsed the second he had gotten you here to my clinic. He's been out cold ever since."

Ukyo let out a sigh of relief. Yes, it was bad... but not so bad that Ranma wouldn't recover, especially with the way he healed. It could definitely have been a lot worse. "Thank goodness..." she breathed, smiling. "I should have known that Ranchan wouldn't let a jerk like that give him too much trouble."

Tofu nodded in agreement... but Ukyo detected an undercurrent of hesitation in the motion, and an unsettling feeling swept through her. "What is it?" she demanded, worry re-entering her voice. "What aren't you telling me?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment. "It's... true that Ranma is in no danger," he said at last, reluctantly. "His friend, Mr. Hibiki, however..."

* * *

Beneda sat in the corner of the room, knees tucked to her chest, trying not to look over at the bed where Ryouga lay. Her eyes stared numbly ahead, memories of the recent encounter playing back and forth through her mind, ceaselessly.

_The roaring fireball bearing down on her. Ryouga swinging her behind himself._

Akane sat nearby, at Ryouga's bedside. No one spoke. The lost boy's condition weighed too heavily on the human girl, and Beneda was practically catatonic.

The sound of stumbling footsteps was suddenly heard outside, and then a few moments later, Ukyo burst into the room. She was holding one hand to her side, movement obviously causing her no small amount of pain. But she did not let it slow her. Her eyes immediately fixed on Ryouga's prone form. "Oh no," she murmured, moving over to stand next to Akane at the bedside.

Beneda turned her head as well, flinching as she caught sight of Ryouga's body. He lay face-down on the bed, torso wrapped in a mass of bandages. And try though she might, the youma could not block out the memories of what lay under those bandages: the blackened skin, the huge blisters, the horrible burns that covered his entire back.

She tried clenching her eyes shut. It didn't help.

"What happened to him?" asked Ukyo softly, looking down at the lost boy. Even unconscious, it was clear he was in a great deal of pain—his face was contorted, his breathing was shallow, and sweat was beading on his brow.

"I... Ranma said..." Akane was obviously distraught. "It was one of the Senshi that did it. She used some kind of really powerful fire magic, and Ryouga... he got hit by it."

Left unsaid was _why_ he had gotten hit, but the silence haunted Beneda as much as hearing it aloud would have. _It would have been me. It should have been me... except he took it for me._

"How is he doing?" the okonomiyaki chef inquired.

"Doctor Tofu isn't sure..." was Akane's miserable reply. "He's done what he can, but he said that for something this bad, he really ought to be taken to a hospital with a burn ward. Except..."

The sentence hung in the air, unfinished, but Beneda's thoughts completed it for her. _Except that he can't go there. Because we're hiding from the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi. Because of me._

Akane took a deep breath, then went on. "Doctor Tofu said that almost anyone else would have died from something like that. Right now, we're just hoping on how tough he is. If he can wake up... If his fever breaks..."

But what if it didn't? Beneda let out a small whimper. It was unbearable. She could find no escape from the questions, from the worries, from the memories.

_Searing fire raging past her in a consuming stream, breaking across Ryouga's unyielding back._

"Beneda? Are you all right?"

The youma's head jerked up, over to Ukyo, who was looking over at her with a concerned expression. _Oh no,_ was the only thought that made it through her mind as Akane turned to look at her as well. _No, no, no... not this, not now!_

"I... It's..." Beneda managed to force out, her hands trembling a little from her agitation. "I'm all right. Don't worry about it."

Unfortunately, her weak denial did nothing to convince them. Akane walked over, kneeling beside her, and Beneda made the mistake of meeting her eyes, giving a human a glimpse of the emotions behind them. "Beneda... you shouldn't blame yourself," the human girl said. "I'm sure Ryouga will pull through. If that fireball had hit _you_, you would have died... and I'm sure that would have hurt him even worse than this."

The words struck Beneda like a blow, and she wrenched her gaze back down to the floor. One more reminder. One more inescapable reminder of what Ryouga had done for her... and of how she had betrayed him. She clutched her bowed head in her hands, pleading silently for an escape.

_—the stifling, unbearable heat, the pungent scent of burning flesh—_

Akane and Ukyo were both saying something to her, but her thoughts were so fractured that she barely heard them, much less understood them.

_—her shuriken aimed at Jadeite, not firing, not firing, not firing—_

She couldn't get away from what she had done, what had happened to Ryouga because of her lies. What would happen to all of these humans.

_—Ryouga looking at her, almost dead, and smiling when he saw she was safe—_

And then, perhaps realizing that her words were not getting through to Beneda, Akane leaned in... and placed a comforting hand on the youma's shoulder.

Beneda jerked violently away, as though the human's touch had been scalding. She shoved Akane back, using the force to push herself in the opposite direction as she stumbled awkwardly to her feet.

Akane's face was with surprise; she had clearly not expected that kind of reaction. "Beneda..."

_"Shut up!"_ the youma shrieked. _"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!_ I don't want to hear _one more word_ of your stupid human games!"

She held out a trembling finger toward the stunned Akane, then swept it across all of them. "It's all worthless nonsense, all of it! Things don't actually work that way! You... you know I'm right, don't you? I _am_ right! You _have_ to know it, somewhere deep down!"

Akane and Ukyo watched her, speechless. Finally, the okonomiyaki chef spoke up. "What are you talking about, Beneda?"

_"Everything!"_ the youma exploded, the words spilling out like water bursting from a dam. "Everything you fools have done! What kind of people just take in someone they don't even know? What kind of people risk their lives to protect an enemy of their entire species?"

"But you're not our enemy, Beneda," replied Akane firmly. "I mean... the Dark Kingdom does seem pretty evil from what I've seen of them... but you're not with them anymore." She met the youma's eyes directly. "You're one of _our_ friends now."

Akane's words were like salt poured onto an open wound... and there was only one way that Beneda had left of striking back. Only one way to make it stop.

"I was never your friend," she whispered. Then her voice became a scream. "_I was never your friend!_ Why couldn't any of you _see_ that? I was lying to you the whole time! Do you think a 'friend' would have done that? Do you think a 'friend' would have _just stood there_ while Jadeite was about to kill them? _Well?_"

An unsteady laugh escaped from between her lips. "No. It was an act all along. Every last bit of it! If that stupid, _stupid_ fool on the bed had known who I really was, he would have left me to die _like he should have!_ He wouldn't have taken care of me! He wouldn't have fought the Dark Kingdom for me! He wouldn't have... jumped in front of..." Her voice began to break. "He wouldn't be... He wouldn't... _He wouldn't!_"

Shoulders heaving, she stared defiantly at the girls, her hands clenched into fists, daring them to do... anything. To say anything. To attack her. To kill her. She barely cared anymore. Her eyes went back and forth between them, searching for some sign of what their reaction would be, certain that there was nothing they could do to her that could make this any worse...

...and then she noticed a tiny hint of movement out of the corner of her eye.

A fist of ice clenched around Beneda's chest. Slowly, she shifted her gaze over to the bed, dreading what she would see.

Ryouga was no longer unconscious. He was managing, just barely, to lift his head a tiny bit, enough to look over at where Beneda was standing. And for a second they were frozen there, the youma meeting his pain-filled eyes.

_He heard._ The realization echoed hollowly inside her. _He heard what I said to them._

_He knows._

With a strangled sob, she turned and sprinted for the nearest window. She plowed through the glass, leaping out of the second-story room and into the streets beyond, where she ran away for all that she was worth.

* * *

Stunned silence held the room in its grip for several seconds after Beneda's abrupt departure. Ukyo clutched at her side, fighting back the pain of the injury as she tried to process what had just happened, and what it meant.

Akane was the first to shake herself out of her stupor, and she immediately ran to the window. "Beneda!" she called out, then spun back to Ukyo. "I'm going after her."

The okonomiyaki chef nodded. She didn't know what Akane expected to do even if she did manage to catch up to the fleeing youma, and she doubted that the other girl had much of an idea herself. But whatever ended up coming of this, whatever the truth was here, they needed to find it out. For all their sakes.

Akane leaped out the window, dropping down to the streets below and running in the direction they had seen Beneda go. Ukyo, for her part, turned to look down at Ryouga.

The lost boy's eyes were open, but not quite focused on anything, his head swaying back and forth as he fought to hold it off the bed. His face was unnervingly pale. "Ummm..." Ukyo said, looking back and forth agitatedly, wishing she knew more about how bad this was. "Look, Ryouga, just... try not to move, okay? Just take it easy. I'll... I'll go get Doctor Tofu!"

With that, she turned and stumbled toward the stairs as fast as her injured side would allow. When she had left him, the doctor had been checking up on Ranma, so she made a beeline in that direction. "Doctor Tofu! _Doctor Tofu!_"

She burst into the room, causing Doctor Tofu to look up and walk over toward her, concern on his features. "Ukyo, what's the matter?"

"It's Beneda!" the okonomiyaki chef blurted, the whole story tumbling from her lips in a rush. "She suddenly got all worked up—I think it was because Ryouga had gotten hurt—and she started yelling at us about how she wasn't on our side but then Ryouga heard her and she ran off and now Ryouga's awake but he's—"

"Slow down, slow down!" Doctor Tofu raised his hands placatingly. "One thing at a time. Are you saying that your strange-looking friend turned against you?"

Ukyo shook her head. "I... don't know. She was saying all kinds of things—some of them didn't even make much sense. She said us she'd been lying to us... but why would she just _tell_ us that if she were really against us?"

Doctor Tofu pursed his lips thoughtfully. "That's certainly true. Still, whatever else may be the case, from what you're saying it sounds as though she is very emotionally unstable at the moment. It may not be wise to assume too much about how she will react, or what her plans are."

"If she even has any..." responded the okonomiyaki chef. "Either way, Akane went after her, so we might learn more if she can find her. In the meantime..."

"In the meantime," came a tired voice from off to the side. "I sure as _hell_ ain't gonna let that tomboy just run around by herself with everything that's out there gunning for us!"

Ukyo whirled around. "Ranma!" she exclaimed, watching as the pigtailed boy groaned and slowly pulled himself up off the bed and into a sitting position. "Did you hear...?"

"Heard enough." Ranma looked more exhausted than Ukyo had ever seen him. Nevertheless, he made as though to stand, then grimaced and clutched his right arm with his left. "Hey Doc. You got anything quick to help with this?"

"You really shouldn't be moving around at all..." responded Doctor Tofu reproachfully, but it was with the resigned reproach of someone who already knew full well that his words would be ignored. Even as he spoke he was taking some materials out of a drawer, and he proceeded to fashion a sling for Ranma's arm.

"Thanks," was Ranma's reply. "All right, I'm going out to start looking too. Which way did they go?"

"Down the street, that way," Ukyo answered, pointing in the general direction. Then she turned back to face the pigtailed martial artist. "Ranma... what are we going to do when we find her?"

Ranma's lip twisted into a pained look. "We'll... figure that out once we know more about what's going on," he said at last. Then he sighed. "Damn it all. And at a time like this! I don't even want to think about how Ryouga's taking it."

Ukyo's heart fell even further at the thought. Ranma was right, of course. It had been Ryouga who had found Beneda first, Ryouga who had brought her to Nerima, Ryouga who had been the closest to her. How must he be feeling? "I just hope the idiot doesn't try to do anything reckless," she murmured. "Like trying to go after her himself."

"Nah, that's one thing you don't need to worry about," Ranma said. "As messed up as he was by that fireball, I'd be surprised if he even had the strength to stand right now. And, I mean, think who we're talking about here. Even if he could manage it somehow, the most he could do would be to just wander around randomly." The pigtailed fighter shook his head. "No, not even Ryouga is stupid enough to try something like that."

There were a few moments of silence, as that statement settled in their minds.

Then, in unison, Ranma and Ukyo turned to look at each other, and then raced up the stairs to Ryouga's room at a dead run. Reaching it, Ranma flung open the door with his working arm, and Ukyo crowded in behind him.

The room was already empty. The only things they saw on the bed were the tangled sheets, as their eyes were drawn inexorably toward the broken window.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Beneda stumbled to a halt in the middle of the deserted road, looking back and forth around her. She could see no signs of anyone following. If there had been any attempt at pursuit, she had evidently thrown it off with her frantic, dodging flight.

_I have to get out of sight,_ she repeated to herself, focusing on that necessity. It at least helped stave off other thoughts. _I have to get out of sight._

Whirling around, she burst into a run again. She had no idea where she was going. She had nowhere left to go. Not anymore. She was simply looking for somewhere she could hide from it all.

Eventually, just when she felt about ready to faint from exhaustion, she came across a narrow, blind alley that provided at least some degree of concealment. She ducked deep into it, slumping at last against one of the walls and sliding down it to the ground. Questions, doubts, recriminations, all of them plagued her. Where had it all gone so utterly, hopelessly wrong? What had been her mistake that had led her to this place?

She didn't know. She didn't know anything anymore, her emotions, her entire world thrown into such disarray that she no longer had any clue which way was up or down.

_It's over..._ she realized, in that moment. _It's all over. It's all gone completely to hell._ Her desperate, last-ditch plan had collapsed in on itself, with no way out that she could see. The only question left was who—out of all the countless parties she had decieved, attacked, failed and betrayed—would be the one to find her first.

Slowly, she curled herself into a ball, clutching her knees to her chest. She had nothing left to try, no future left to aim for.

How long she remained like that, she had no way of knowing. Every moment bled into the next, without anything to mark the passage of time. Her only company was her own accusing thoughts, chasing themselves in endless circles through her mind, on and on, never ceasing.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she heard footsteps.

They were still a ways off, but moving their way down the street all the same. It was almost certainly nothing, she knew. Probably just some random human passerby, who would run away screaming if they even noticed her. And yet, even so, fear constricted in her chest at the sound.

Could it be the Dark Kingdom? More youma forces, coming to hunt her down? But no, she could hear only _one_ pair of footsteps—they would be searching in greater numbers than this.

The sounds continued to draw nearer, and Beneda's desperation continued to rise. The Senshi, then? But no, the footfalls were heavy, trudging things, not the sound of slight girls in high-heeled shoes.

Beneda bit hard into her lower lip, her heart hammering in her chest. She did not want to admit the most likely possibility. She realized that the thought of facing Ranma, or Akane, or Ukyo again had become even more frightening to her than either the Senshi or the Dark Kingdom. To have _them_ against her, the protectors who had cared for her now attacking her...

She clenched her eyes shut, pleading for it all to just go away, but the footsteps only drew closer and closer.

Except... their approach wasn't exactly steady. As she listened, she could hear the footsteps swerve incomprehensibly, angling suddenly toward the opposite side of the street, then back the way they had come for a moment, then off in a vaguely forward tangent, with no sane pattern that Beneda could detect. It was almost as though the walker were completely lacking in...

Her blood turned to ice in her veins. _No,_ she thought. _No, it... it can't be!_

The footsteps continued to wander nearer. Frantically, she recited to herself all the different reasons why it was impossible.

Why it wasn't him.

Why it _couldn't possibly_ be him!

She curled her body tighter in on itself, her eyes locked onto the ground, and nowhere else. It felt as though the walls themselves were closing in on her. Soon, the footsteps had reached the alley mouth.

A shadow fell across her. She did not dare look up, only remained huddled where she was. The silence was terrible, a raw, aching void. It stretched on and on, second after endless second.

Finally she had to speak, had to say _something_. "It... I..." she tried, brokenly. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Her shoulders slumped. "Everything Cologne said was true, you know. About the Dark Kingdom. About me. About what I was trying to do. I was lying to you the whole time."

There was another silence. Then, at last, she heard Ryouga's voice. "Why?"

Beneda flinched, staring down at her hands. "I... I just wanted to survive," she said, barely audible. "I was supposed to kill the Senshi for my masters. Not for any of the reasons I told you. Just because they were in our way. But then I failed, and my masters wanted to kill me for it."

"But then you were there. A fighter that could actually beat a youma. And I knew it was my one last chance. If I could set you against the Senshi... If I could use you to... complete my mission..."

Her voice trailed off, then she shook her head. "And why not? After all, you were... just some human. It shouldn't have been any problem for me to use you like that. So I pretended to be on your side, and I pretended to like humans, and I pretended to care what happened to you, and I pretended and pretended and pretended..."

Then she clenched her fists, a note of almost-anger entering her voice. "But you didn't play fair! The way you treated me... The way all of you treated me... It wasn't like anything I'd ever..." Her voice broke, and she was unable to continue.

A long silence fell once more. Then Beneda heard the lost boy start walking toward her, slowly. Step by step he drew nearer, until he stood directly over her huddled form, his legs just barely visible out of the corner of her eye. She held her breath, ready at any moment for the blow that would strike her into dust.

Then she heard Ryouga lower himself to the ground, sitting down next to her. "Well," he said at last. "This is one _hell_ of a mess you've gotten us into..."

The youma nodded miserably, still trying to process the idea that he hadn't yet done anything to her. They continued to sit there for a while, before Ryouga spoke again.

"Still..." he said. "I... I know how hard it must have been for you to tell us something like this." He hesitated. "There was... someone I knew, once, who was in the same kind of situation. Someone I... met when I was in China."

"This guy... he had gotten a Jusenkyo curse. Kind of like Ranma's—but way, _way_ worse! Except... except it also let him pretend to be something he really wasn't. And... just from what he told me... I know how hard it can be to admit to something like that."

Beneda swallowed, trying to think of a response. "So..." she managed to say at last. "What happened to him?"

"Huh? Who?" replied Ryouga.

"That friend of yours," the youma clarified, still not daring to look the human in the face. "Did he ever admit to what he was doing?"

"Oh, him," said Ryouga. "No. He... never really did." The lost boy let out a tiny laugh. "That's one thing you've got over him, at least."

Another long silence fell, as emotions churned within Beneda. At last they bubbled to the surface, bursting out as she finally, finally gave voice to the fear that had been haunting her all this time. "But Ryouga..." she said desperately. "None of this makes any difference! I didn't keep trying to get back to the Dark Kingdom because it was a better place to live than here. I was trying to go back because _they're going to win!_"

"You have no _idea_ what you're up against! Did you think Jadeite was powerful? He's _nothing_ compared to Kunzite, and Beryl herself is even worse! They have _thousands_ of youma to call on! And... and when _Metallia_ awakens..." She broke off, shuddering in terror. Even just speaking the odds out loud had cast a pallor over her thoughts, a sense of doom that she could not shake.

But to her astonishment, Ryouga only snorted. "Well, maybe they are that tough," he said stubbornly. "And maybe I could live a little longer if I somehow got on their good side. But do you really think that kind of life would be worth it? Bowing and scraping to bastards like that, while they did who knows what to Akane and everyone else?"

The lost boy shook his head. "No, even if I _had_ the choice, I'd still rather kick their asses for as long as I can. And whatever happens, happens."

The words caught Beneda right in the chest, taking her aback. In all her frantic worries about how to survive her situation, it was the one question she had never asked herself. How much was her old kind of life even _worth_, in the end? How many days spent cowering in Beryl's service would it take—to equal even _just one more_ day with friends that actually cared about her?

Was there even a number?

"And besides," Ryouga's voice broke into her thoughts. "Don't sell us short either. We've beaten things more powerful than us before, and whatever the Dark Kingdom does decide to throw our way... well, we'll just see how well it actually goes for them."

Beneda laughed unsteadily, shaking her head in disbelief. "I... I'll never understand you humans," she whispered. "Not in a thousand years..." At last, she managed to summon the courage to lift her head, to look the lost boy in the eyes. "How can you— _Ryouga!_"

She abruptly broke off, her eyes going wide in horror as she got a look at him. She had been so wrapped up in her fear at facing him again that she had completely forgotten that he had hideously injured even _before_ he had gone out looking for her.

His face was deathly pale, with sweat trailing profusely down it. His eyes were barely focused, and his hand was clenched in a deathgrip on his knee. He was swaying drunkenly back and forth, and it was obvious that he was only hanging onto consciousness by sheer, raw willpower.

"Oh hell, Ryouga!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to steady him. "What were you _thinking!_"

Ryouga smiled lopsidedly. "Feh. This is nothing..." he said, though the way his head wobbled as he spoke rather ruined the effect. "You shouldn't worry about me. I've had rug burns worse than this."

"Idiot..." Beneda whispered, clutching tightly to him while looking wildly back and forth. There was no one nearby.

She looked back down at Ryouga. The lost boy was in terrible shape. She doubted that he had the strength to get back to his _feet_, much less back to the clinic. Not that he even knew the way.

And she knew that there was only one way for him to return safely.

* * *

Ranma leapt down from the rooftops, landing in a run as he hurried back to the clinic door. Akane was there as well, just back from searching her own area. He could tell how it had gone just by her expression, but he had to ask anyway. "Did you find either of them?"

His uncute fiancée shook her head dejectedly. "No, I didn't."

"Me neither. No sign of them anywhere from here to the park." Ranma sighed. "Damn it, I can't believe that moron, just running off in the condition he's in. I mean, _him_, of all people! He could be _anywhere_ by now!"

"Doctor Tofu told me that he called Ucchan's," offered Akane. "With the others looking too, we can cover a whole lot more—" Abruptly she broke off, her eyes widening as she caught sight of something off to the side.

Ranma turned to look for himself. There, standing on the sidewalk, was Beneda, with a sleeping Ryouga slung across her back.

No one said anything for a long time, nor did Beneda meet their eyes. Finally, she spoke. "I... I'm really sorry," she told them. "I know I don't have any right to just come back here myself, but... he's hurt badly and... I just..."

Her words seemed to break the shocked spell over the moment. Akane rushed over to her, checking anxiously on Ryouga's condition. "Quick, bring him inside!" she said, urgency in her voice. "I'll go get Doctor Tofu!"

With that, she turned and ran back toward the clinic, Beneda following along in her wake. They ran past Ranma, and the youma had reached the door when the pigtailed fighter called out her name sharply. "Beneda!"

She stopped cold where she was, her body tensing up, as though in anticipation of being struck. Ranma turned, looking over his shoulder at her, then spoke again. "Make sure someone calls Ucchan's too. They're out looking for you and Ryouga from there... so we oughta let them know that you're both home safe."

Beneda's eyes went wide, and she nodded furiously, as though not trusting herself to speak. Ranma regarded her for a few more seconds, then cracked a grin. "Well, lucky thing you came across the moron, anyway. You wouldn't believe how hard it usually is to find him."

The youma shook her head. "It wasn't like that," she said quietly. "He found me."

* * *

With the departure of Beneda and Ryouga, the alley where they had spoken had been left vacant. There was no sign of movement, and the only sound was the occasional breeze that blew between the building walls on either side.

Those silent walls reached upward to the silent rooftops. And on those rooftops—sitting back where he would be just out of sight—was a silent figure, clad in a flowing white robe.

The hidden weapons master's brow was furrowed, as he gazed moodily at nothing in particular. When Tofu had called Ucchan's, when he had heard that the youma's treachery had been revealed... this was not how he had envisioned events turning out.

He had joined the search for her, of course. And he had found her, there in that alley. Considering his orders from Cologne, his next step should have been clear.

And yet... he had hesitated. She had looked so pathetic, huddled down there, that he hadn't quite been able to bring himself to leap down and strike her dead. That delay had allowed Hibiki to find her, and for his part, he had hidden himself to watch and wait.

The results had been even more unsettling. Hearing them talk, hearing the emotion in the youma girl's voice... It had made things seem... less simple. Less straightforward than they should have been.

So he sat there, even after they had left him alone with his suddenly troubled thoughts. He didn't yet know what he would do. But there was one fact that was inescapable. Cologne had sent him here with the expectation that he would work to expose the youma, and kill her once that had happened.

And right now, Beneda was as exposed as she was ever going to be.


	14. Making Plans

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** _Very _special thanks go out to **EternallyLostRyouga**, who was generous enough to commission some artwork for this fic from the amazingly talented **Nadiezda**! You can find the links to their DA sites on my profile—I highly recommend checking them out!

And, as always, a hearty thanks to **Lathis** for providing his beta reading expertise, and catching my errors and goofs.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Making Plans

Even before he fully regained his awareness, the soft, steady _thrum_ of the medical pod began to filter into Jadeite's hearing, irritating him on a subliminal level with its constant droning.

Slowly, the General pried his eyes open, blinking as he took in his surroundings. As the sound had indicated, he was currently flat on his back, encased in the glowing cylinder of a body-sized regenerator. Dark energy washed up and down its length, bathing his body in its magic.

He tried to make a slight movement, and was instantly rewarded by an explosion of agony ripping through his entire body. The pain nearly sent him back into unconsciousness, and he had to fight to get himself back under some semblance of control.

In his shattered state, it took him several minutes to remember the circumstances that had led to his current condition. Images from the disastrous battle in the Nerima ward began to filter back to him, bit by bit, all the way up to his galling, inexplicable... defeat.

He had no memories after that, of course. And for a while he tried to piece together what had happened in that blank period. How had he gotten from the middle of a hostile battlefield back to a Dark Kingdom medical bay?

He lifted his head slightly, prepared this time for the pain. He needed to learn more about the current state of affairs, needed to find out his situation.

The first thing that he saw was not reassuring.

The Darkmistress was standing near his bedside, her back to him. She seemed to be lost in thought, brooding over something only she knew. Jadeite noticed that the white headpiece she always wore was no longer on her forehead, but rather held in her hand. She was running her thumb along its white, wing-shaped outline, occasionally tracing the dark red gem at its center as well.

After a few moments, the youma spoke. "You shouldn't try to move. As badly as those _humans_ beat you, it will be quite some time before the damage is fully healed..." Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, giving him a venomous look. "_...sir._"

Jadeite met her gaze, seeing as he did that her face and throat were covered by severe burns, making her corpse-like visage all the more nightmarish. He could see that her right arm was burned as well, and he did not doubt that her robes concealed even more of such damage.

"You do not seem to have escaped unscathed either..." he managed to croak out. Even mere speech was unbelievably painful for him, but his pride would not allow him to keep silent, no matter how bad his injuries.

The youma's face darkened. "This is nothing," she hissed back. "I have already received all the healing sorcery I require for this... trifle." To underscore her point, she reached out and picked up a bulky medical device off a nearby table, crushing it effortlessly with her burned hand.

It was a none-too-subtle reminder of where the balance of power now lay between them. Jadeite knew—galling though it was to admit—that if the Darkmistress wished, she could easily kill him and pass it off to Queen Beryl that he had died fighting these new interlopers.

So why had she let him live? Even more inexplicably, why had she arranged for his healing?

Not questions that someone like him could bring himself to ask directly, of course. Instead, he probed into surrounding matters. "The battle..." he forced himself to say. "Was it...?"

"A complete defeat," was the Darkmistress's flat reply. "With not a single confirmed casualty in _either_ enemy force. You were brought back by three of my Inquisitors, who only survived because the enemy knocked them out, and didn't even bother killing them."

A crushing, inescapable dismay settled in Jadeite's soul. It was even more catastrophic than he had imagined. "Then our fates hang by a thread. A debacle like this will not be easily forgiven. Queen Beryl's wrath will be—"

"Beryl doesn't know."

Those three words stopped Jadeite cold, upending all his thoughts in a single instant. Queen Beryl had always possessed a near-omniscient knowledge of his every failure, his every misstep, no matter how small or out-of-the-way they had been. He had been so _used_ to it... that he hadn't realized a crucial difference between now and all those other times.

This time, the head of Queen Beryl's spy network and secret police had just as much to lose as he did.

"You covered it up?" rasped the Dark General, incredulity tinting his voice. "The entire fight?"

"It wasn't that hard," the Darkmistress replied dismissively. "If it had happened in the Juuban area it might have been a problem, but Nerima is far enough from the main portal that we don't usually send many teams out that way. And the humans themselves aren't making much of the battle either. That ward appears to have a... reputation... for such incidents, and I doubt that this will generate enough interest to come to Beryl's attention in any recognizable form."

The reality of what was going on was still sinking in for Jadeite. "But... there are others who know as well. I informed my clerical youma, Alimora, that I was going to join in the battle, so she—"

"Yes, it occurred to me that you might have mentioned something to her," interrupted the Darkmistress. "However, soon after you were brought back to the Dark Kingdom, she had a fatal accident in one of the lift tubes. There were also a few youma who managed to catch sight of you as you were being brought here, but we conducted routine searches of their dwellings, and happened to discover anti-Beryl propaganda hidden in each and every one. They were, of course, executed on the spot."

"Of course," echoed Jadeite. "And the Inquisitors who brought me here? The three survivors?"

The Darkmistress gave him a flat look. "_What_ survivors?"

Jadite nodded. So, she wasn't even trusting her _own_ servants with the secret of what had happened during the battle. Whatever else could be said about this youma, she covered herself well. Which left only one witness left remaining. Him.

However, he wasn't overly worried. In fact, he was beginning to suspect why she hadn't killed him yet.

"So then..." the Dark General said. "You have bought yourself some time. But your deception will not last long. You've lost a full _dozen_ of your most elite agents. Do you really think you can prevent the Queen from discovering that—or from being suspicious when she does? No, I think that your failure will soon become as apparent as..." He paused. "Well. As apparent as the _burns on your face._"

The youma's lip twisted at the mention of the most inescapable evidence of her defeat. He wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know, of course. But this inward-circling dance had to be played out, step by step.

"Beryl will find out," the Darkmistress admitted. "Eventually. However, if the interlopers are crushed before that time, she can be presented with a victory, and not a defeat."

"Perhaps..." said Jadeite. "But considering the ease with which a mere _two_ of these new enemies tore through your forces, I have to wonder whether you can succeed. The Black Section functions tolerably as a secret police... but it hardly has the numbers or the resources to fight a full-fledged war. That seems a task better suited for, say... one of the Army divisions."

The Darkmistress locked her gaze to his own, allowing him to see the hatred in her eyes, roiling beneath her thin shell of civility. "Well it seems to me, General," the youma hissed softly back, "that _you_ have just as much to lose in this situation as I do."

And there it was. Jadeite's suspicion had been exactly correct. The Darkmistress knew that she would need help in order to exact the vengeance she craved against these astonishingly powerful humans. But she also knew that if she went to any of the _other_ Generals she would be bargaining from a position of utter weakness.

Jadeite, however, had been placed in the exact same situation as her by the events of the battle. They had common cause... and common leverage over each other, mutually implicated in the same piece of blackmail.

Despite the horrible pain he was in, the Dark General gave a thin, humorless smile. "Certainly," he responded, meeting the Darkmistress's hate-filled gaze with one of his own. "It would be my great pleasure to assist you in any way I can. You can rely on the full support of me and my forces in dealing with this threat."

_But only until I have no further use for you,_ added Jadeite silently—knowing that the Darkmistress was unquestionably thinking the exact same thing.

* * *

Luna took a deep breath, wincing a little at the flash of pain that shot through her. She hadn't been seriously injured from her unexpected flight, but she was still a bit bruised, something her body seemed to delight in reminding her whenever she tried to make any big movements.

Still, she had to admit that the relative break it offered had been nice. Usagi had actually been fussing over _her_ for a change, hard though that was to believe. All the girls had been frantic with worry when they found her sprawled out on the rooftop, and they had insisted that she rest and not push herself.

So yes, it hadn't been all bad. But their enemies were still out there—more so than ever—and after a good night's sleep, the Senshi had regrouped at the Hikawa Shrine to plan their next move against the steadily worsening odds they were facing.

The moon cat looked around the room at each of the girls. She could see that the events of the previous day were weighing heavily on each of them, though they showed it in different ways. Usagi was fidgeting in her seat, glancing back and forth fretfully. Ami's head was bowed in thought, and she wore a frown on her features. Rei was standing a little bit apart, staring off into the distance, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Knowing that no one else would break the silence, Luna cleared her throat. "Before anything else..." she said to her dispirited charges. "You should know what a good job you girls did yesterday. We were outnumbered like we've never been before, and we still managed to hold our own. Even more importantly, we all made it through safely. I'm very proud of all of you."

"But those new guys... they were really scary!" blurted Usagi, looking to her fellow Senshi for support. "Did you see the kind of stuff they were doing? I couldn't hit them at all, and the one guy just grabbed my Moon Tiara and used it _himself!_"

Rei nodded. "For once, I agree with meatball-head," she said. "And that last fighter... he had my back, and I didn't even realize it until after he'd already attacked. If he'd wanted to, I'm sure he could have killed me instead of paralyzing me like that."

Luna let out a heavy sigh. Indeed, that older fighter was one of the most troubling aspects of the picture. Even beyond his successful sneak attack, if the ease with which he had taken down Tuxedo Kamen had been any indication, the moon cat wasn't even sure why the man had felt the need to flee.

But the Senshi were all looking to her, so she pushed her fears to the background. She had to be strong. "We'll figure out a counter for him," the moon cat said firmly. Then she turned to Ami. "Usagi mentioned last night that you had scanned Rei with the Mercury computer. Did you learn anything about that paralysis attack that he used?"

The blue-haired Senshi nodded. "Yes. Although..." she hesitated for a moment, then plunged forward. "I don't think that it actually _was_ an attack."

Seeing the puzzled expressions of the other members of her team, she hastily amended herself. "I mean... yes, it was certainly being _used_ to attack Rei and Tuxedo Kamen, but..."

Taking out the Mercury Computer, she punched a few keys on it, then turned it around to show them the screen. It displayed a human outline, with flowing blue lines running through it, which Luna recognized as the flow of life energy through the body. There were various other indicators and readouts as well, most of them incomprehensible to the cat.

"This is the reading I took from Rei," Ami explained. "The effects that were detected on her body seemed... _familiar_ to me. So I researched it last night, and in the end I confirmed my suspicions. The symptoms are _exactly_ like ones that I once read about in a book on high-level acupuncture and acupressure theory." She frowned. "This is a _medical_ technique."

Rei's eyebrows went up a little, even as Usagi's eyes went wide. "_Wow!_" the dumpling-haired girl said. "You know about that kind of stuff, Ami?"

The young genius blushed a little, uncomfortable with the vociferous praise. "W- well, I _am_ studying to be a doctor like my mother one day..." she explained hurriedly. "So it's only natural that I try to learn about different kinds of treatment whenever I can..."

"But how can you be sure that his knowledge of it had anything to do with medicine?" asked Luna, still trying to grasp the whole of Ami's assertion. "Being able to paralyze people like that would certainly have combat uses as well."

Ami shook her head. "The paralysis is only one part of it. According to what I read, it's used to immobilize limbs, so that things like breaks and sprains can be more effectively treated. When fully applied, there are a number of other effects, such as numbing pain for the affected areas and loosening the nearby muscles."

"That was the key. None of those secondary effects would be particularly useful in a battle... but I detected them all in Rei. That man didn't use the technique like a fighter would... he used it like a _doctor_ would."

The Senshi digested that for a moment. Then Usagi cocked her head to one side. "So... what does that mean?"

"Nothing yet," replied Ami. "But it's another piece of information. It may not fit right now, but it could help us piece together things once we learn more."

At that, Rei took a deep breath. "Well," she said slowly, her expression growing even more pensive. "If we're talking about details that don't make much sense on their own... there's something else that you all ought to know."

"It happened inside the alley, so you couldn't really see it from where you were standing, but... when I shot that last Fire Soul... I wasn't aiming for the enemy I ended up hitting. I was trying to get that youma, but the fighter with the bandanna, he just... threw himself in front of the flame to protect her."

"No way!" exclaimed Usagi, shocked. "Are you serious? Why would a bad guy do that?"

"It's not that simple, Usagi," Luna sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain things to her somewhat-naïve charge. "Things aren't always so black and white. Even 'bad guys' can sometimes be kind or honorable, according to their own standards, but it doesn't mean that they aren't still dangerous."

The blonde Senshi didn't look too convinced, so Luna went on. "Besides, he might have had a reason for what he did. She could have been part of their strategy somehow."

"That's what I thought at the time..." agreed Rei. "But then that older fighter didn't hurt me, even though I'm sure he could have if he'd wanted to. And then we found out that _you_ were still alive too, Luna. I'm not sure exactly how it fits together, but... I don't think what he did for that youma was just for the sake of their plan."

Luna bowed her head, replaying the moment where the bandanna-wearing fighter had launched her through the air. She had to admit, the odds for that kind of perfect trajectory for minimizing damage were extremely slim. _Maybe there is more to them than we've seen yet..._ she thought.

Eventually, the moon cat looked back up. "No matter what, we shouldn't let down our guard," she said firmly. "Everything else aside, they _were_ the ones who attacked us first."

Then her expression softened a little. "Still, we should definitely try to talk with them. If there's any chance that we can come to some kind of understanding... If there's _any_ chance that we can avoid a two-front war..."

She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to. All of them, even Usagi, could see how ugly that would become.

* * *

Ryouga propped his head up, resting it on his arms. He felt a little silly, lying there on his stomach while everyone else was sitting or standing, but after his stunt the previous day, Doctor Tofu had told him in no uncertain terms that he would paralyze him from head to toe if he left his bed again without the doctor's explicit permission.

Not that he really felt up to doing so. His little excursion into the city had _not_ been at all good for his wound—the pain was wracking him, and he felt as weak as a newborn.

Still, at least his fever had gone down to the point where the hallucinations had stopped. The dream where he had been running away from a giant fire-breathing ostrich with Ranma's head had been particularly disturbing.

Most of the other members of their little defensive force were scattered around the room Tofu had given him. Akane was sitting a little to his left, glancing over worriedly at him every now and then, while Ranma sat directly across from him, his right arm still in its sling.

Ukyo and Shampoo, of course, had lost no time in positioning themselves on either side of him, each watching their rival warily. Mousse, for some reason, was standing a little bit removed from the rest of the group, leaning against one of the walls. His arms were folded deep into his voluminous sleeves, and a taut, unreadable expression was on his face.

And to Ryogua's right sat Beneda, who was the cause of this meeting in the first place. She was looking nervously back and forth at all the assembled humans, and the lost boy knew that the coming explanation could not be easy for her.

Eventually, she cleared her throat. "Um..." she said. "Well... Most of you already know at least some of this, but... I... wasn't really being honest when I told you about my situation. I was... trying to manipulate you, trying to use you so I could get back into favor with the Dark Kingdom." The words hung lamely in the air, too simple and straightforward to match the magnitude of what they entailed.

There was a short, strained silence, before Akane took pity on her and gave her some guidance. "Why don't you just start from the beginning," she suggested. "Tell us how it really happened."

Beneda nodded. "All right. It all started out similar to what I said. I really was part of a trap for the Sailor Senshi. Except... it _wasn't_ because we were afraid of the Senshi trying to kill us for being youma. It was because we intended to take over this world, and because the Senshi are the only group opposing that. Or, well, they _were_ the only group... until you picked a fight with the Dark Kingdom too."

Ranma grinned wolfishly. "Well that's not something to blame yourself for. If they're trying to take over the whole world, we sure as hell would have ended up fighting them sooner or later anyway."

"I suppose so." Then the youma hung her head. "But you definitely wouldn't have ended up fighting the Senshi, though. That part was... all my fault."

Ryouga spoke up at that. "But they _did_ attack you, didn't they? Later on, when you faced them the second time?"

"Technically, yes..." Beneda's voice dropped to barely-audible levels. "But... only after _I_ attacked them first. Before you got there. And... I also told them that we were all out to rule the world ourselves."

"Oh." There wasn't much that could be said to that. Ryouga found himself replaying the encounter once more, with that new information added, and the clarity of hindsight was a painful thing. He realized that he had almost beaten up a bunch of girls over completely false pretences. And even worse, girls notably _younger_ than him—looking back, he doubted whether any of them were even out of middle school. A queasy feeling swept through him, one that had nothing to do with his injury.

Still, at heart, Ryouga wasn't the sort of person who let himself get too tangled up in "might-haves" or "could-have-beens." He believed in walking forward. The fact of the matter was that he thankfully _hadn't_ ended up hurting any of them, which went a long way toward calming his troubled thoughts.

...well, true, he had knocked Tuxedo Kamen around a little, but the masked man wasn't a girl, so he didn't count. Men were supposed to just shrug that sort of thing off, in Ryouga's opinion.

"So then, if we just explained the way things actually are to the Senshi, you think they'd leave us alone?" asked Ukyo.

"Or even better, we could join forces!" added Akane. "If the Dark Kingdom is coming after all of us, then we should team up and fight them together!"

The youma hesitated. "Explaining might convince the Senshi that we're not a threat to them," she agreed. "But... they wouldn't be able to help us very much. Not against what's coming."

Shampoo frowned. "What monster-girl mean?" she asked, sounding puzzled. "Sailor girls is _already_ fighting Dark Kingdom for while now, yes?"

"You don't understand," Beneda said, shaking her head. "The Senshi haven't lasted this long because they can actually fight the Dark Kingdom off. They've lasted this long because the Dark Kingdom _can't find them_. They strike out of nowhere, and they disappear just as quickly. They can't be identified or tracked; their disguise magic is so advanced that even Queen Beryl herself can't crack it. If they weren't in their Senshi forms, you could walk right past them on the street and never even recognize them as the same people."

"But we don't have anything like that," supplied Ukyo, a look of understanding darkening her features. "We've already shown ourselves."

Beneda nodded. "Yes. Believe me, if General Jadeite ever figured out who the Senshi actually were, and where they were operating from, he'd drop an entire battle group of youma on their doorstep as fast as he could."

"And since he can hunt _us_ a lot easier than them, you think that's what he's gonna do here?" Ranma asked.

"Of course he will!" was Beneda's response. "You have to realize what you've done, Ranma! You _beat_ a Dark General! They can't possibly let a loss of face like that go unanswered! He'll throw youma at you by the scores, by the _hundreds_ if he has to, but he won't stop until he's killed you all!"

"All right. All right." Ranma raised his uninjured hand in a calming motion. "Don't worry. We just need to come up with a plan, that's all. There's gotta be a way to beat this."

"But how?" asked the youma. "The odds against us are... unbelievable! You and Ryouga barely beat Jadeite by himself! How are you going to beat him when he comes back at the head of an army?"

A lopsided grin crossed Ranma's face. "Yeah, sure, there's a lot more of them than us," he admitted. "And sure, a hundred youma might beat us in a straight fight. All that means is that we won't _give_ 'em a straight fight."

The pigtailed fighter began to gesture widely with his uninjured hand. "See, if the other guy's more powerful than you, you don't just charge in and try to take him head-on. Only a total moron—" Ranma's eyes flickered briefly over to Ryouga as he spoke, prompting the lost boy to glare back. "—would fight like that. If you want to win, you gotta be sneaky in how you attack. You gotta take advantage of the other guy's weaknesses. And if you've got weaknesses of your own, you gotta find ways to avoid those. Or even better, you can actually turn... them... into..."

Ranma's voice trailed off, his eyes losing their focus slightly. Then his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Then a speculative expression crossed his face, followed by and grimace of distaste, followed by a wry smile. Then he turned back to Beneda. "Hey..." he said. "So the Senshi... From what you told them, they must think we're some kind of... evil masterminds or something, right?"

Beneda nodded shamefacedly... but Ranma's grin only widened. "All right then, listen up," he told the assembled group, as he leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I got an idea."

* * *

The Darkmistress paced up and down the length of the medical bay, her thoughts consumed with her plans to kill the upstart humans who had shamed her so.

Jadeite lay in the healing pod off to one side, but she tried to ignore him as much as she could, addressing him only when her strategies veered into an area that required his input or consent. It _galled_ her that she had to pass up a perfect opportunity to kill him, but her need to kill these new upstarts was even greater.

"If you only want to search with scanning teams disguised as humans, then you'll have to supplement my youma with some of your own," she informed the General at length. "Transformation is just too rare a power. I can't spare enough who have it from their other duties."

Jadeite grunted. "Very well," he said. "I will provide whatever youma are necessary to make up the difference. We can't risk our prey bolting before I can send in the main strike force."

Which was, more than anything else, the weakest link in their plan. In order to keep the location of the Juuban portal secret, they couldn't send any large, untransformed troop movements through it—not in broad daylight. Nor were temporary portals much of a solution either. Opening enough of them for long enough to deploy an army into Nerima would have been a taxing feat even had Jadeite been at _full_ strength.

The corpse-like youma's lip twisted, as she considered the delay that could create between discovery and attack. Worse, she knew that they would get only one shot at it. There would be no way to conceal a maneuver of that size from Beryl, even for her. One way or another the Queen would know. The only question would be whether they could lay the humans' heads at her feet to placate her.

Or, failing that, whether she could shift enough of the blame onto Jadeite to avoid death herself. She had kept him alive for more than just the army that he commanded.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "What if we moved the army through the portal beforehand?"

Jadeite shot her a scornful look. "And where would we hide a force of that size? Or are we to risk open conflict with the JSDF on top of everything else springing up to assault us?"

"Hardly," the Darkmistress spat back. One of Beryl's standing edicts was to avoid direct encounters with the human armed forces until they had Metallia's direct support once again. Even this sortie they were planning—hit and run though it was—would dangerously push the limits of that command. "The Black Section has many contacts in the human world, General. I could easily command some of my deep-cover agents to arrange the use of some large warehouses."

Jadeite pondered the suggestion. "Yes..." he said at last. "That might be worth considering. I could set up a fake training exercise to serve as a cover, and begin moving them out under the cover of night. It would certainly allow for a faster response, without compromising the location of the Juuban portal itself."

_So glad you agree..._ was the Darkmistress's contemptuous thought. Aloud, she said, "Then we should begin as soon as possible. Before we face these upstarts again, I want to have at _least_ seven hundred youma ready for immediate attack."

A vicious smile split the youma's face. "And then we will see how well the humans fare..."

* * *

Usagi sighed, her shoulders slumping as she listened to the back-and-forth planning of Luna, Rei and Ami.

She was used to hating the lifestyle of a Sailor Senshi. That feeling had been her constant companion since the first time she had taken up her transformation brooch and rushed—however falteringly—to Naru's rescue.

Most of the time, that dislike was born out of fear, the panic that seized her at the thought of facing the Dark Kingdom's deadly servants. But now, though the fear was definitely still there, there was also an unpleasant feeling of gnawing uncertainty to deal with on top of that.

When fighting youma, it was at least clear what she _should_ do, even if her fear made it hard. It didn't take a genius like Ami to know the response when faced with a monster trying to drain the life from your friends and neighbors. Nor was there much call for sympathy when the youma was eventually reduced to dust, especially since said youma had usually almost killed _them_ a few times before that happened.

But these new bad guys... If they even _were_ bad guys... Usagi scratched her head, trying to figure out how she felt about it all. Enemies that had attacked them... but also didn't kill Luna when they had the chance. Enemies that said they were trying to take over the world... but also were doctors, healers. Enemies that _insulted her figure_... but also sacrificed themselves for one of their servants.

It was all too confusing. Luna had said that even enemies could be kind in their own way, according to their own principles, while still needing to be stopped. But Usagi didn't _want_ to fight someone who could jump in front of a fireball for someone else.

_If they have that much kindness in their hearts, then there has to be a way we can work things out without killing each other,_ she thought. _There just has to be!_

Clinging to that decision as her compass, she tuned back in to the ongoing discussion. Ami was the one talking at the moment. "...still need more data before we can make any real decisions like that," the blue-haired girl said. "That should be our first priority. Until we do that, we're operating blindly."

"All right, then," Rei agreed. "How can we find out more about them?"

"We have four main leads right now," answered Ami. "First, the location that Shampoo gave us, since we never ended up reaching it yesterday. Second, the Nekohanten itself. Third, the other restaurant that Gosunkugi mentioned—Ucchan's."

"Hmmm..." Rei frowned in thought. "We can cover more ground if we split up, and we'll probably be less conspicuous that way too. I can go back to the Nekohanten, since I was the one who talked with Shampoo last time. I might be able to get some more information out of her."

Usagi's gaze ping-ponged back and forth between her other teammates, as she tried to figure out what to do. "Why do we have to go _alone?_" she pleaded anxiously. "Isn't there supposed to be safety in numbers?"

"Not if you're trying to avoid attention, meatball-head," Rei shot back. "Still, _you_ should probably take Luna along with you, just to make sure you don't mess things up."

"I'm sure Usagi can handle herself just fine," Luna interjected, ignoring the blonde girl's violent shaking of her head. "She can look into this Ucchan's place. A public restaurant should be safe enough. And I should probably be the one to investigate the actual hideout that Shampoo mentioned, since I'm the smallest and least noticeable."

Rei, meanwhile, turned back to Ami. "Wait. You said that we had were four leads, but that was only three."

"Ah, yes..." the young genius said. "The last is probably one that I should handle. I talked with my mother last night, to see if there was anything she could tell me about this kind of medical acupressure. She hadn't had much first-hand experience with it... but she did tell me about an old friend of hers, who apparently knows a great deal on the subject. In fact, she said that he was the one who gave her the book that I found the technique in."

"I just thought... if I could talk to him myself, I might be able to learn more about what to expect when fighting someone like that. Maybe there are ways to counter the paralysis, or other things we'd need to watch out for."

"It's definitely worth investigating," agreed Luna. "All right, then. We know the next steps we need to take. Let's set out first thing after school tomorrow. And no excuses, Usagi."

Yes, reflected the blonde girl glumly. She _really_ hated being a Senshi.

* * *

Ryouga blinked. "_That's_ your plan?"

"What?" Ranma demanded defensively. "You got a better one, pork-chop?"

Which was, of course, the problem. He didn't. Short of the Tendos and everyone associated with them going completely on the run, living the rest of their lives as fugitives from the Dark Kingdom, his rival's plan was the only one they had that could protect them from the overwhelming odds they faced. And, thinking through it, even Ryouga was forced to admit that it might actually work.

That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

Beneda, on the other hand, was looking at them like she was questioning their sanity. But in the end she simply shook her head, evidently choosing to go along with them. "It won't be that easy, though," she cautioned. "We'd have to make it all look _good_, like an actual ritual. And we'd need a real magic artifact of some kind, too. If they scan it, it has to be giving off a magical signature."

"Great-grandmother have many magic thing at Nekohanten!" suggested Shampoo excitedly, backing her Airen's plan without hesitation. "She no notice if one gone. Shampoo think."

Even Akane, to Ryouga's mild dismay, seemed to be on board with the idea. "Well," she said. "If we're trying to put together something that looks magical, I know someone who might be able to help with that part too."

"See?" said Ranma. "What'd I tell ya? We can make it work. It'll just take a little doing, that's all."

Ryouga grumbled a few choice words under his breath. "Fine, fine," he growled at last. "We'll go with your plan. Just don't blame me if the whole thing falls down around your ears."

"Actually," Ukyo put in. "_I'm_ more worried about staying alive until we can put the plan into action. It's going to take a while to get all this stuff together, and all the details worked out. They're going to be looking for us, you know. Both the Senshi and Dark Kingdom."

Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I know. We'll have to figure something out to hold them off while we're getting ready. If it comes down to a fight I ain't too worried about the Senshi—heck, we even got them outnumbered—but those Dark Kingdom types are some nasty pieces of work."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you probably won't need to worry about Jadeite himself for a while," Beneda told them. "Even with healing magic, broken bones take a long time to heal, much longer than tissue damage. If you crushed him as badly as you say, he should be laid up for at least a week or two." Then the youma hesitated. "The Darkmistress, on the other hand... I didn't see what happened to her."

"Maybe one of the Senshi got her?" suggested Akane hopefully.

"That we should be so lucky..." replied Ranma. "Nah, she's probably still out there. Someone that twisted wouldn't die so conveniently." The pigtailed fighter shook his head, then turned to Beneda. "You weren't kidding about that illusion thing of hers, though. I saw a lot of dirty tricks when I was running around on my training trip with Pop... but that one's dirtier than any of them."

Mentioning the Darkmistress prompted Mousse to look up sharply, while Ryouga glowered at the memory of the illusion's use on him. "It's the kind of thing only a coward like her would use," the lost boy bit out, his eyes flashing. "Just a cheap cheat."

"But she _is_ smart about how she uses it," Ranma warned. "She doesn't just throw it at you whenever; she waits until she can really take advantage of it. A big attack, one that'd leave you off-balance if you pulled it. Plus, even after she uses it, it's still a pain fighting a copy as perfect as hers is. Even if you know in your head that it's a fake."

"That seems to be a hallmark of hers," observed Mousse darkly. "When she attacked us at the dojo, she probably used the disguise of a little girl for a similar reason. I think she knew that most human fighters would have trouble going _truly_ all-out against what seemed to be a child—if only on the level of instinctive reactions."

Beneda nodded. "And it's even worse, since her illusions can appear as _whoever_ her opponent cherishes the most." She turned to face Ranma. "It must have been especially difficult for you to fight against..." Then she frowned, an expression of mild curiosity crossing her face. "Actually, I don't think I saw that part of the fight. Who _did_ she turn into for you?"

Everything came to a screeching halt.

Slowly, moving with eerie unison, Akane, Ukyo and Shampoo all turned their heads to look at Ranma. The pigtailed fighter, for his part, turned white as a sheet and began to inch fearfully away.

"Well, Ranma?" asked Akane at last, smiling a very deliberate smile. Her tone of voice was probably intended to be calm and unconcerned, but it failed spectacularly at those goals. "Aren't you going to answer her question?"

"Ummm..." Ranma managed.

"Don't be so tense, Ranchan," put in Ukyo, her gaze locked onto Ranma with burning intensity. "It's not a big deal. We're just curious, that's all."

"Yeah... Well... You see..." Ranma inched a little further away, glancing frantically around as though for a means of escape.

"Shampoo want know too," added the Joketsuzoku girl firmly, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Is too, too important to learn all about enemy power. Yes?"

"I didn't... I mean... It wasn't..." The Anything-Goes heir was growing increasingly flustered... until suddenly his eyes lit up with a flash of inspiration. "_Pop!_ It was Pop that I saw!"

Silence greeted his words. Finally, Akane spoke. "You saw your father," she repeated flatly.

"Yeah!" Ranma fired back, his tone defensive. "That Darkmistress chick... she probably picked up on our deep an' loving family bonds of—"

"Hah!" Shampoo shot to her feet. "Is obvious what truth is! Violent-girl and Spatula-girl want force Airen not say who he is seeing!"

Ukyo immediately sprang to her feet as well. "Oh, _that's_ rich!" she shot back. "You just keep telling yourself that, sugar. I don't think you'd like to hear the actual truth!"

And then Akane was on her feet herself. "W- well it's not like I wanted to know for _that_ reason!" she protested. "I just wanted him to answer Beneda's question, that's all!"

Ranma snorted, crossing his arms quickly and looking away. "Yeah right, like I'd ever have a dorky tomboy like _you_ showing up in something like that!"

_"Ranma you jerk!"_ A large wooden mallet was suddenly procured out of nowhere, and immediately swung toward Ranma's head. The pigtailed martial artist yelped, leaping backward out of the way. Akane continued to charge after him, swinging with every step, chasing him all around the room. In no time at all, Shampoo and Ukyo had joined the pursuit, each shouting at Ranma to "just tell her that it was me you saw!"

Beneda watched the unfolding rampage, her eyes wide, her jaw hanging open. At length, she turned to Ryouga. "Does... this sort of thing happen often?" she asked uncertainly.

"Feh," was Ryouga's grumbled reply. "He's just lucky that _I'm_ laid up... insulting Akane like that..."

But as it was, he had to content himself with watching the chase, and adding another entry to his list of things to beat Ranma up over once he regained the ability to stand.

* * *

Hours later, long after the ruckus had died down, Beneda stood waiting in the lobby of Tofu's clinic.

Her mind was still a complete jumble, filled with conflicting emotions, along with a general sense of unreality. She could _never_ have imagined that this would happen to her—that she would actually throw in her lot with a group of humans. But it had happened nonetheless. She had done it. She had come clean, and somehow they had still accepted her.

She was one of them now.

That thought filled her with an impossible warmth that she had no words to describe. She was only just beginning to come to grips with the fact that the shame and the fear of discovery that had plagued her up to this point were now things of the past. It was as though a hundred-pound weight that she had grown used to carrying had suddenly been taken away. She had nothing left to hide.

Which, in turn, meant that one more confrontation was in order.

Behind her, she heard the door to the clinic open. Tofu had closed his practice temporarily in light of the situation, so she knew that there was only one person the new arrival could be—the person she had called Ucchan's to request this meeting with.

"Well hello," came Nabiki's voice from the doorway. "If it isn't my favorite agent of darkness... How are you doing, Beneda?"

Beneda turned, keeping her face calm, and looked Nabiki straight in the eye. "I'm doing very well," she said honestly. "Better than I ever have before, in fact."

"Well good for you!" Nabiki said, smiling. "I hear that you had a little bit of excitement yesterday..."

The youma gave a small nod. "More than you know," she said. Then she took a deep breath. "I told them everything, Nabiki."

The middle Tendo's eyebrows went up a little. "Everything?" she echoed, sounding surprised.

"Yes," Beneda said. "The things you were holding over me. The things you never even guessed. _Everything._ Whatever it is you wanted to blackmail me into doing... you can't make me do it."

There was a moment of tense silence. And then Nabiki did the last thing Beneda had expected her to do.

She laughed.

It wasn't even the malicious, condescending laugh of a victor to the vanquished—that much Beneda might have expected, if the mercenary girl still had a trick up her sleeve. But this was actual, genuine laughter, as though Beneda had just told an uproariously funny joke.

Finally the laughter died down into chuckles, and Nabiki addressed her again. "You're absolutely right," she admitted. "I don't have any blackmail left on you anymore."

Beneda watched the still-smiling girl warily. "So..." she said at last. "If you can't force me to do what you want... why are you so happy?"

"Because..." Nabiki said, as she walked past Beneda, patting the youma briefly on the shoulder as she went by. "...you've already done it." The human girl winked, then walked on out of the room, leaving an utterly flummoxed Beneda in her wake.

* * *

Akane huffed loudly as she jogged down the sidewalk, mentally replaying the events of the earlier scuffle as she ran. _Honestly!_ she fumed to herself. _What a jerk! What an absolute jerk! So what if I'm not...quite as feminine as those other two? He doesn't have to rub it in like that!_

_And I absolutely don't care one bit who it was that he saw!_

It was only when she reached her destination that her anger began to abate, as it gave her something new to focus on. _I'll show him!_ she promised herself. _I can be useful, at least._ When she arranged this bit of assistance for Ranma's plan, even he would have to admit that...

Well, knowing the jerk, he probably _still_ wouldn't admit that she had been any help. But it would be true, and she would know it, and _he_ would know it. Even if he wouldn't say so.

Walking up to the front door of the house, Akane knocked, then stepped back to wait. There were several seconds of silence, and then she heard someone coming up to the door. A moment later, it swung open. And a moment after _that_, Gosunkugi's eyes bulged as he saw who it was that had come calling.

"A- A- A- Akane!" he stuttered, white-faced, taken completely aback by the development. "Wh- wh- what are y- you doing here?"

"Hello, Gosunkugi," she replied, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry for showing up so suddenly, but there's something I need to ask you. You know a lot about... magic stuff, right?"

Gosunkugi's response was mostly incoherent, but there was a definite nod of the head somewhere in it, so Akane forged onward. "Well, the details still haven't been worked out completely... but something's come up with Ranma, and I was wondering if you might be willing to lend a hand with it? I think you could really be a big help."

Her words seemed to be having a profound effect on the boy; he couldn't seem to nod fast enough. "That's great!" she exclaimed. "Thank you! Can we go inside to talk about it more, though? It's probably not the sort of thing that we should discuss out here."

Gosunkugi turned a bright red, but quickly opened the door wider to allow her entry. Akane began to step through... and then paused, catching a tiny flicker of movement out of the very corner of her eye.

She turned quickly, trying to locate the source... but could not find anything. Her eyes swept back and forth, but nothing in the street or the surrounding houses seemed in any way out of place.

"A- Akane?" came Gosunkugi's worried voice from behind her. "Is everything all right?"

She continued to search for a few more seconds, before shaking herself and sighing. "Sorry," she said. "All this must be getting to me. I'm starting to jump at shadows..."

* * *

Kodachi the Black Rose peered around the edge of the wall that she was hiding behind, watching as the boy with the dark shadows under his eyes let the Tendo girl into his house. She let out a small sigh of relief as the door finally shut behind them. That had been too close; she had almost been discovered.

Still, the fruits of this afternoon's excursion had been most interesting indeed. It had only been by chance that she had come across the filthy peasant, but she had immediately begun trailing her, waiting for her to drop her guard and give Kodachi a chance to attack—in all fairness, of course.

But this... this was even more intriguing. So her rival was seeking magical assistance in a matter to do with her darling Ranma. There was, of course, only one possible conclusion that could be drawn from such a conversation.

That harlot was trying to enchant Ranma's affections!

Kodachi felt righteous anger burning inside her. How _dare_ she do something so despicable? If such a spell existed, it was obvious that the Black Rose was the only one who should be using it!

Then a smile began to creep across the gymnast's face. _But I am wise to your game now, little tramp,_ she thought ominously. _And I will not allow you to get away with it..._

* * *

Night had fallen over Nerima ward, bringing with it a blanket of relative quiet. The streetlamps provided their tiny islands of illumination, but apart from them, darkness laid claim to the surroundings.

For the twelfth time since he had snuck away from Tofu's clinic, Mousse glanced over his shoulder, searching for any signs that he was being followed. He found none. He continued to walk swiftly through the city streets, until at last he arrived at the Nekohanten.

Without wasting any time he slid open the door and ducked inside. The place had long since closed, and was now dark and silent. He threaded his way through the empty tables like a white-robed ghost, until he reached the back rooms.

Cologne was sitting there, her back toward him, reading one of her ancient scrolls by the light of a single, flickering candle. She did not acknowledge his presence, but Mousse knew that she had been aware of him since before he set foot in the restaurant.

The ancient master continued to study the parchment, letting the silence stretch on, until Mousse spoke. "Saotome—and the rest of them—have learned that Beneda was deceiving them," he announced, speaking in Chinese.

"Have they, now," was Cologne's neutral response.

"Yes," said Mousse. "Because _she_ told them. She confessed everything, after Hibiki was hurt protecting her."

"I see." Cologne's voice didn't change any, but her tiny shoulders seemed to slump just a little, as though she were suddenly weary. "I suppose it is too much to hope that son-in-law's reaction to this was the pragmatic one?"

"He's still bent on protecting her, if that's what you mean," replied the hidden weapons master. "They all are."

"Unfortunate..." Cologne unrolled the scroll some more, reading further. "Though not unexpected."

"Saotome has a plan," Mousse pressed on. "A crazy, half-baked one, but he's determined to go through with it."

A soft breath, too heavy-hearted to quite be called a chuckle, escaped Cologne's lips. "Of course he is," she said. "So tell me, what has son-in-law come up with this time?"

Mousse told her.

A long silence greeted the explanation of the plan's nuances. Finally Cologne spoke. "That is... impressive," she said. "He's actually managed to come up with something even _more_ theatrical than his ridiculous 'time traveling Happousai' plan."

Mousse winced at the memory of their ultimately-successful yet calamity-fraught attempt to get Pantyhose Taro's name changed. "Should we stop this somehow?" he asked.

"Stop it?" said Cologne, in a thoughtful tone of voice. "No. No, I don't think so. However, it would be best if he made a few slight modifications to his plan. Suggestions which you will present to him as being your own."

The hidden weapons master hesitated. Then, gathering himself, he asked the question that was on the tip of his lips. "These 'suggestions' that you want me to give Ranma... are they part of your plan to fight the Dark Kingdom... or part of your plan to kill Beneda?"

In an instant, the atmosphere of the room seemed to become ice cold. Slowly, very slowly, Cologne turned away from her scroll to look at Mousse directly. "And why, pray tell," she asked, with deliberate calm, "do you find that distinction so important?"

Mousse shrank under her gaze, but did not back down. "Beneda gave us that confession of her own free will," he answered defensively. "I was there in that alley. I heard what she said. She sounded—" He paused, memories flashing through his mind of her huddled frame, her broken tone of voice. "—sincere."

Cologne's eyes narrowed. "That is not your judgment to make, Mu Si," she snapped. "It is against Joketsuzoku law to allow a monster like that to—"

_"I know!"_ Mousse snapped back. "I know the Joketsuzoku laws!"

Strained silence fell once more. Then, abruptly, Cologne turned back to her scroll. "I will tell you this much," she said at length. "This advice I send through you will give son-in-law—and _all_ those with him—their best chance of surviving the immediate future. However, that does not change the fact that his youma must be... dealt with."

"I see," was Mousse's neutral response.

"And if you will not fulfill your duty," Cologne went on, "there will soon be many more who will have no such reluctance."

Mousse's eyebrows shot up. "You mean—?"

"Yes," Cologne told him. "We will soon be receiving reinforcements."

* * *

Ranma sat atop Tofu's clinic, gazing out across the darkened city as he kept watch, alert for any signs of their enemies. Since Ryouga had to stay here, where Tofu could treat him, the doctor had opened his clinic to the other defenders as well. It was, Ranma had to admit, certainly more spacious here than Ucchan's.

The pigtailed fighter chuckled to himself, reflecting on the events of the past day. To think that the deception that had gotten them into this mess would be the key to getting them out of it. It was, ultimately, a fortunate thing that Beneda had planted that idea in the minds of the Sailor Senshi.

"Saotome."

_"Gah!"_ Ranma sprang to his feet, whirling around in a fighting stance, cursing himself for his distraction. His heartbeat began to slow again, however, once he realized who it was that had come up behind him.

"What the—? What are you doing out here, Mousse?" Ranma asked, trying to quickly reestablish his composure. "It ain't your turn on watch 'till morning."

"I... wanted to talk with you," the nearsighted boy replied. The night shadows made reading his expression impossible. "There is something you need to know. Our focus so far has been on defending against the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi... but you mustn't forget Cologne."

"I haven't," Ranma assured him. "We'll need to settle things with her eventually. It's just that the Dark Kingdom is the big threat right now."

"Cologne's threat is about to get _much_ bigger," warned Mousse. "She's sent for the rest of the tribe, Saotome. All the warriors they can spare. They'll be here the day after tomorrow."

Ranma's eyes widened. "How did you find out about—?"

"Don't ask me that," interjected Mousse sharply. "It's not an answer that would do anyone any good. Just believe me when I say that it's true."

The pigtailed fighter hesitated for a few moments, then nodded. "All right man," he said. "Thanks for the tip."

Mousse grunted, then turned and walked away. He reached the edge of the roof, before pausing and glancing back over his shoulder. "Saotome..." he said. "This plan of yours... do you really think it will work?"

* * *

Meanwhile, in Gosunkugi's bedroom, the scrawny boy was having trouble containing his excitement. His dark-ringed eyes fairly danced with glee. It was perfect! Too perfect!

With this new turn of events, he could do more than just feed the Senshi information! He could actually _help_ them in their fight, by sabotaging Saotome's scheme from within! The pigtailed fool and his evil monster would never know what hit them!

* * *

Meanwhile, deep within the Kuno mansion, Kodachi was training furiously with her ribbon, spinning it this way and that, in preparation for the battle that she knew was coming.

_Do you think you can steal my darling Ranma from me so easily, you little minx?_ she thought. _I will do whatever it takes to ruin your little... magic plan... and then steal its power to claim Ranma's heart for my own!_

* * *

Meanwhile, in Ami's house, the blue-haired girl was double-checking the plan for the following day. The goals were all set—Luna investigating the hideout Shampoo had mentioned, Rei returning to the Nekohanten, Usagi checking out Ucchan's, and herself trying to learn as much as she could from her mother's friend.

She just hoped that this "Doctor Tofu" could shed some light on their mysterious attacker, and the techniques that he used...

* * *

Meanwhile, in the darkened Nekohanten, Cologne sat brooding over the recent events that Mousse had described to her. She had hoped that it would not come to this... but that had turned out to be an old fool's hope.

And so she was left with a law to be enforced... and a choice to be made.

* * *

Meanwhile, off in the Dark Kingdom, the Darkmistress was reviewing the latest report on the troop movements. A vicious chuckle escaped her lips as she did so.

_I defy you to show your faces again, humans,_ she thought bitterly. _For when we find you, we will bury you under a flood of youma that this world has not seen since the fall of the Silver Millennium!_

* * *

Back atop Tofu's clinic, Ranma regarded Mousse's question with disbelief. "Of _course_ the plan is going to work," he said, sounding affronted that Mousse would even suggest that his brilliant idea could fail.

"I mean... what could possibly go wrong?"


	15. Keeping Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Keeping Secrets

"Good morning, honey!"

Ami paused in eating her breakfast, a bit of rice halfway to her mouth, and glanced up from the book she had been reading. "Good morning, mother," she said, her face brightening. "Do you want me to make you something to eat while you're getting ready to go?"

The elder Mizuno leaned over as she passed by the table, giving her daughter a quick peck on the cheek. "Sorry, dear, I don't have time for breakfast today," she admitted. "I need to hurry back to the hospital."

Swallowing a sigh, and not allowing her smile to waver, Ami nodded. "It's been an extra busy week, hasn't it?"

"Yes, you can say that again..." This was all something of a ritual for them. In reality, it was weeks that weren't "extra busy" that were the rare exception, but by unspoken agreement neither of them acknowledged that fact aloud.

_I shouldn't be selfish,_ Ami thought resolutely. _The work she's doing is much more important. Lives depend on it. A missed breakfast or two doesn't compare._

"Well... just make sure you get something to eat soon," said Ami at last. "You won't do your best if you're starving."

Her mother smiled at the concerned urging. "Don't worry. I'll make sure to grab something out of a vending machine when I have a spare minute." She continued to bustle on her way, picking up her purse, her jacket, soon reaching the doorway.

She bent to reach for her shoes—then paused, looking back over at Ami. "Oh! I almost forgot. I called up Doctor Tofu like you asked, and he agreed to see you today. You can head over to his clinic after school; he'll be expecting you."

"Thank you!" was Ami's reply. "It really means a lot to me."

Her mother shook her head. "Oh, it's no trouble at all. Really, I enjoyed the chance to talk with him again. It's been years since we last crossed paths." Then she gave Ami a speculative look. "Though I am curious... you never mentioned what prompted this interest in acupressure therapy all of a sudden..."

Ami felt something seize up in her chest. "Oh... it's nothing in particular..." she lied. "I just... came across some interesting stories about the subject when I was studying, and I wanted to observe it for myself." The act of deception made her feel sick, even though she knew it was necessary. Good reasons or no, it still felt to her like a breach of trust between her and her mother.

The elder Mizuno, for her part, regarded her daughter for a moment, before her face slipped into a sly, teasing smile. "All right," she said airily. "And while you're there, you can also see about taking advantage of Tofu's other techniques. The man's massages are simply _divine_... and he's _very_ good-looking on top of that." A wink closed off the none-to-subtle insinuation.

_"Mother!"_ Ami's mortified voice went well with her suddenly beet-red face. "I... I am certainly _not_ going to see him for... for... for _that_ reason!"

Her mother laughed, then walked back over to Ami to ruffle her hair. "I know," she said. "My little doctor. Just... don't forget to have some fun too, while you're out there, all right? You're still too young to be focused only on serious things."

"I'll be meeting up with Usagi and Rei out there as well," Ami offered quickly. That part was even technically true—although "fun" was not likely what they would be facing.

"Good. Good!" her mother said—oblivious to the deadlier implications of such a group trip. "I'm glad to hear that. Those girls are very good for you, honey."

Ami nodded feelingly. "I know," she said. Then she looked over at the clock. "You'd... you'd better hurry, or else you'll be late."

"Yes, you're right." But her mother took one more moment to hold her daughter by the shoulders, looking her deep in the eye. "Ami... I'm very, _very_ proud of you. You know that, right?"

A lump rose in Ami's throat, and she nodded wordlessly. Then, with one more squeeze, her mother turned and dashed hurriedly out the door, trying to make up for lost time.

* * *

The Darkmistress walked down the rocky passage, the sound of her footsteps echoing hollowly. It was an echo that she felt resonate in her chest as well, a feeling of inescapable dread as she drew closer and closer to the door at the end.

The corpse-like youma resisted the irrational urge to touch her face, to confirm that the makeup covering her burns was still there. It had been the best job that she could manage, but she was terrified that it might not be good enough. She pulled the hood of her robe as far down over her face as it would go, hoping to conceal and enshadow as much as she could. At any other time, of course, she would have simply used her illusions to cover herself.

To even attempt them in this meeting, however, would have meant certain death.

All too soon, she reached the door. She did not knock, merely stood there, hands clasped behind her, head bowed low, mouth dry. The youma used every ounce of willpower that she had to try and prevent her muscles from tensing up. If she wanted to have any hope of pulling this off, she could not afford to let the slightest hint of fear show through. She needed calm. She had to be calm.

Eventually, the door swung open, without any noise or sign of an opener. The Darkmistress stepped through, and immediately it closed behind her. The youma took a few steps into the darkened room, then knelt low. "I have come as ordered, your Majesty."

"Rise." Queen Beryl's voice was cold and imperious, a voice that expected absolute obedience.

The Darkmistress rose. The Queen looked at her from the chair in which she was sitting, and to the youma it felt as though those red eyes were spearing straight through her. The Queen's staff clasped in her hand, her red hair spilling down to below her waist. Looking at her, feeling the power in the air around her, the Darkmistress was very acutely aware that her ruler could end her existence with a mere gesture.

_It's almost impossible to believe that she used to be human, once,_ the Darkmistress thought. _Though that was long, long ago._

Around them, the youma could see the opulent furnishings of the Queen's private chambers. While Beryl conducted the majority of her governance from her throne room, in front of her court, some matters were too sensitive for such a setting. This included almost every matter that the Black Section touched.

"In what way may I serve you?" the Darkmistress asked. This was not one of her regular reports; the Queen had demanded her presence specifically and without warning. There were many possible reasons for a command like that, and beneath her emotionless exterior the youma's mind was racing, trying to figure out which it was. _Could she have discovered what I'm hiding from her? The way the humans crushed my forces in our last battle? Could she be toying with me even now?_

"I require an update on the intelligence you have been gathering," Beryl said. "Specifically... I wish to know whether your spies have learned anything unusual concerning General Jadeite."

_Jadeite! The very thing I want to keep her from learning about!_ The Darkmistress's heart was hammering in her chest. _How much can I afford to lie? If she catches me in something she knows is false... But how much does she already know?_

"Ah yes, Jadeite..." the youma began. "As your Majesty doubtless knows, he has been keeping a low profile of late. He has not made an appearance in court for days, nor have his own troops seen him in person."

"Yes, hence my question," replied the Queen acidly. "I trust that _you_ will be able to tell me more than common gossip among the line soldiers." There was nothing subtle about the threat in that statement.

"Of course." The Darkmistress decided to keep as close to the truth as she dared. "My sources indicate that he is in the midst of preparing for some kind of operation. There have been large troop movements on his orders, and rumors of special training exercises, but it has all been kept highly secret."

As she spoke, the youma had to fight her instinct to glance at the crystal ball on the end of the Queen's staff. _That_ was the most terrifying part of all of this. Beryl's ability to use it was legendary; there were few barriers in existence that could shield a location from her sight if she chose to focus on it. Of course, she would hardly spend every waking moment doing so, nor could she look everywhere at once... but even so, you could never, ever be _sure_ that she wasn't watching.

_If she scries into my medical wing and finds Jadeite there, it will be the end of everything,_ the Darkmistress thought. _I must not give her any cause to think that we are connected._ "And to make such preparations without informing you, Majesty... Are you sure of his loyalty? If he is planning to send his forces against you..."

Beryl snorted contemptuously. "You suggest a coup d'etat? By my second-weakest General, using less than a fourth of the Dark Kingdom's army? I've warned you before about impugning his loyalty without evidence, youma. I will not have my time wasted by your petty feud with him."

It was all the Darkmistress could do not to let out a shudder of relief, as she bowed low. "I apologize, your Majesty. Then... perhaps he is planning to move against these new human enemies that have appeared recently. His secrecy could be because he wishes to show me up by destroying them while I am still studying them."

The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps," she said. "I _am_ surprised that it has taken this long for you to deal with these new upstarts."

The youma's throat went dry. "They are... very interesting specimens, your Majesty," she said, praying that none of her fear carried through to her voice. "I see no reason to be hasty when careful consideration might benefit our cause even more."

"You did not seem to think so when you attacked them with the Hounds," observed Beryl mildly, her eyes flashing with a deadly look. "Or was it their response to that blunder that increased your opinion of them?"

"Your Majesty is correct, as always," the Darkmistress groveled. "In addition... their performance when I faced them myself—before they fled from me!—was of some note. In any case, rest assured that the _next_ time I face them, they will not escape."

"I should most certainly hope so," was the Queen's dire pronouncement. "I am not accustomed to incompetence from you... nor will I tolerate it for much longer."

The Darkmistress could not hide the shudder that ran through her body at the threat. _If she finds out the truth... No, I can't let that happen! I must rectify this quickly!_

_I must find them!_

* * *

The shopping center was small but bustling, with a good-sized crowd of customers mixing back and forth between the stores, each intent on their own business, each paying only passing attention to the others.

That suited Lesp just fine.

As casually as she could manage, the youma swept the area with her gaze, looking for anything out of place. It made her skin crawl to be in an area so packed with humans as this. Weak little bags of flesh they might be individually, but Lesp was not so arrogant as to miss how utterly outnumbered she and her partner were in this situation. If their human disguise were seen through... If all those humans rose as one to swarm them en masse...

Then the youma shook her head. _Stop it,_ she told herself. _This is paranoid, even for me. The creatures aren't going to notice us, and even if they did, they'd probably just flee._ The uneasiness diminished a little under her self-rebuke, though it did not vanish entirely.

Lesp glanced over at her partner. Cortheia was currently wearing the form of a short, wiry human woman, with her black hair cropped close around her head. It didn't do anything for Lesp's mood to see Cortheia's youma features wrapped in the ugliness of a human guise, but it was, of course, necessary. The only thing recognizable about her was her eyes; those still looked around her with the same restless energy that would mark her no matter which form she took.

"Anything?" Lesp murmured quietly, out of the side of her mouth.

Her partner glanced down into the human-style handbag she was carrying, where they had hidden their scanner. "Nothing," she said, sounding vexed. "No youma readings of any kind!"

"Don't worry." Lesp took another look around, though it was more for the sake of doing something than any expectation it would bear fruit. "It's a _lot_ of ground we're trying to cover, even with all the youma we're throwing at it. This is going to take time."

"But we've already been so close today!" protested Cortheia in a frustrated undertone. "Team Five almost caught up with them that one time! But every time one of us detects the renegade, she slips away before we can reach her! It's like they know we're coming somehow!"

Lesp grimaced. Indeed, it was looking more and more like that might be the case—which raised troubling questions of its own. "Still, don't worry about it," she replied. "If even half the rumors are true, about the kind of power that these new enemies have, then we don't _want_ to be the first ones to find them."

But of course Cortheia, being Cortheia, ignored Lesp's cautioning. "We _have_ to find them," she insisted stubbornly. "I'm worried about Master Jadeite. Do you think he's gotten in trouble over this? No one's seen him in person in over a day, and I even heard someone say that this whole mission was somehow attracting the attention of the Black Sec—"

Lesp's hand shot out, grabbing Cortheia roughly by the arm. _"Quiet!"_ she hissed. "That is _not_ something to speak aloud!"

"But... if Master Jadeite really is in trouble with... _them_..."

The other youma let out a long sigh. She honestly didn't want any harm to come to Cortheia. Impulsiveness aside, she was one of the more... tolerable youma to be around. But she was also one of the most _weak-minded_ youma that Lesp had ever met. The little fool absorbed absolutely everything that the Army's propaganda machine put out with wide, unblinking eyes, and Lesp knew that she really would charge instantly into danger to aid her General.

Just how were you supposed to keep someone like _that_ from getting themselves killed?

"Listen to me," Lesp whispered harshly. "Those kind of games are played on levels that you and I are never going to reach. The more you get involved, the more likely it is that you'll get crushed like a bug. When you see that kind of infighting going on, you need to keep as far out of the way as you can, keep your eyes locked on the ground, and hope to _hell_ that you don't see anything they don't want you to see. Understand?"

Cortheia shrank under her partner's rebuke. "I... I didn't mean... I just thought... If we could provide the Master with a big victory here, it would help out his standing."

Lesp swore under her breath, tiredly. "Yes, yes of course. We'll try to complete the mission we were given." Though they wouldn't try _too_ hard, if she had anything to say about it. "But that's the best we can do. Trust me, the General is more than capable of taking care of himself. Even... _they_... would think twice before they crossed someone like him."

Her partner didn't seem to like the answer, but she slowly nodded in agreement. Lesp took yet another wary look out across their surroundings, wondering what dangers could be lurking out there, undetected. "Then let's hurry and finish our assigned sector. I don't want to spend any more time out here than necessary. All these humans just running around free... it's disgusting."

"We only need to have patience," recited Cortheia with pious conviction. "Once Queen Metallia awakens again, this will all be put right. The humans will become our food supply, and all resistance will be crushed under Her irresistible power."

"Well it can't happen soon enough for me," grumbled Lesp. Hopes like that were all well and good, but they didn't do much about their current situation—deep in hostile territory, searching for a powerful enemy that somehow, inexplicably, seemed aware of their every move.

Suddenly Cortheia turned around, craning her neck upward, a puzzled look on her face. Worried, Lesp spun as well, searching the sky. "What? What did you see?"

Cortheia paused... then shook her head. "It's nothing," she said. "Just a trick of the light." She lifted her hand to point at a rapidly-shrinking speck on the horizon. "For a second there, when that bird flew over us, it almost looked like it was wearing some kind of glasses..."

* * *

Mousse tilted the wings of his duck form, soaring a little lower, the rooftops shooting past underneath him. As he did so, he made a mental note of the position and direction of those latest two youma he had found. Beneda hadn't been kidding; the Dark Kingdom really were flooding Nerima Ward with search parties. And supposedly, these were just the ones that could transform.

The near-sighted waterfowl banked left, swooping around back toward Doctor Tofu's clinic. Using his Jusenkyo curse for long-range reconnaissance had been one of Cologne's ideas—though of course, he hadn't mentioned that when suggesting it. Using his aerial advantage, he could keep track of the enemy's movements over an extremely wide area.

Disguised, they were a bit difficult to pick out, but Mousse had the advantage of his previous encounter with the Darkmistress in her own disguise form. He knew exactly what to search for—that same sense of _wrongness_ in their ki that even their disguises could not hide completely.

_They're closing in again..._ he thought grimly, as he flapped his wings, propelling himself forward even faster. _I wonder how much longer we can keep this up?_

* * *

The wheels on Ryouga's sickbed squeaked slightly as Beneda pushed it down the hallway, trying hard not to jostle the boy laying on it. Doctor Tofu had said that there was something new he wanted to try out, and had asked her to bring Ryouga to one of the main treatment rooms.

She just hoped that it would help.

"Ah, there you are!" The bespectacled doctor looked up from his preparations as the youma wheeled his patient through the doorway. "Very good, just bring him right over here. How are you feeling, Ryouga?"

"I've felt better," allowed the lost boy, wincing a little as he spoke. "Nothing I can't handle, though. I'm sure I'll be up and around in no time!"

"Mmm-hmm." The doctor did not sound particularly convinced, but didn't make any counterarguments. Instead, he reached over and began undoing the bandage wrapped around Ryouga's back.

Which turned out to be about the best counterargument possible, since the action caused Ryouga to let out an undignified half-shriek, half-whimper of agony. Beneda flinched as well, the words _my fault_ running through her mind once again.

Tofu, for his part, pursed his lips. "Yes, about what I thought," he said. "You're definitely going to want to sleep through this." With that, he stabbed with two fingers toward the base of Ryouga's neck, and his patient immediately slumped into unconsciousness.

Nor did the doctor stop there. He continued to work his way down Ryouga's back, lightly tapping pressure points as he went. Then, finally satisfied, he resumed the removal of the bandage, laying bare the wound beneath it.

Beneda gagged, nausea sweeping over her, but she forced herself not to look away. His flesh was still burnt and blistered all along his back. The youma took a step closer, swallowed hard, then turned to Doctor Tofu. "Will... will this be able to help him?"

Tofu seemed to regard her for a moment, and then he answered. "It should. I've spent the last few days searching my library of books and scrolls for every possible treatment I could think of... and this one seemed the most promising out of all of them. It's an ancient balm, originally from India, which is said to be particularly effective in treating injuries from spellfire. And, while I did have to substitute a few ingredients making it, overall I have high hopes."

The doctor proceeded to walk over to a small closet, opening it and taking out a large, sealed tub. Setting it down on a countertop by the lost boy's bed, he opened it, revealing it to be filled with a brownish, claylike substance. He then went over to a sink located next to one of the windows, washed his hands thoroughly, and returned to the bedside. "All right," he said, digging his hands deep into the tub. "Let's begin."

As Beneda watched, Tofu started to knead the salve into Ryouga's back, first around the boy's shoulder blades, then working his way down. His movements were gentle, graceful, possessing a surety and a focus that mesmerized the youma.

It was another fascinating difference between her old life and her life now. In the Dark Kingdom, healers were a _lowly_ caste, filled with those dregs too weak to even think of making their mark in battle. But not so here. She knew full well the immense level of fighting ability that this man in front of her commanded, from his swift defeat of Tuxedo Kamen. And yet he chose to serve as a doctor... brining restoration to the harm that actions like hers had caused.

Suddenly, she realized that her rapt absorption had not gone unnoticed. Tofu was looking at her, another one of those long, appraising looks on his face. When he spoke, his words came as a complete shock. "Do you want to try?"

"M- me?" spluttered the youma, her eyebrows shooting up. "Are... are you sure? I mean, I'm not... I don't know how to..."

"This part isn't difficult," Tofu encouraged. "I'll give you any help that you need. If you want to do it, just wash your hands over there and we can get started."

Beneda's mouth hung open for another half-second. Then, shaking herself out of her surprise, she walked over, washed her hands as Tofu had indicated, and then walked back. She was honestly at a loss, but had decided to just go with the flow.

She dug her hands into the tub just as she had seen Tofu do, the balm feeling cold and slimy to the touch. Then she turned and began to tentatively rub the medicine across the afflicted areas.

"Good, good..." Tofu reached in from beside her, laying his hands on hers and guiding her in the same motions that he had been making. "Slow and steady, that's right. His skin will be particularly tender, so try very hard not to bump or jostle him in any way."

The youma followed his instructions, and soon her motions began to grow in confidence, becoming more and more her own as she grew accustomed to them. Soon, Tofu withdrew his hands altogether, allowing her to continue by herself.

As she worked the balm across the wound, she found that there was a small release in her own heart as well. Had the doctor known that playing a part in this healing herself could help to soothe the pain of her own guilt a little? Probably he had.

Beneda wasn't sure how long she spent at the task, but it was suddenly interrupted by a flutter of wings, as Mousse flew in through the window in duck form. He landed by the sink, used his beak to turn on the hot water, and soon his naked human form stood before them.

"The Dark Kingdom are getting close to this place again," he said urgently. "We need to move Beneda out of here before they detect her. If we hurry, I think we can slip her through a gap in their search pattern to the north."

The youma nodded. "I'll grab my coat and hat disguise and meet you out front with... is it Mr. Tendo's turn to accompany me?"

Doctor Tofu nodded. "I believe he's out behind the clinic, playing shogi with Mr. Saotome," he said. "You should be able to find him there."

"Hurry," said Mousse. Then, with a twist of the cold water tap, he was a duck again, and disappeared out the window.

* * *

The subway train pulled away from the station, leaving behind it the three girls and one feline that it had carried to this point. The remainder of the trip would be made on foot, to each of their four separate destinations.

Luna found herself worrying as they walked out of the station—and not just because of the immediate danger. Each of her charges seemed to still be troubled by the recent events, and none of them had spoken much on the ride over. That crippling uncertainty was, in some ways, the worst part of all this. The odds had always been against them in their fight, but now they weren't even sure which direction they should be striking.

She had gone to the Crown Arcade the previous night after Usagi had fallen asleep, and had contacted Mission Control through the transmitter hidden in the Sailor V game. However, the voice on the other end had been just as mystified as Luna. He could only agree with her that whoever these new players were, and whatever their reasons for throwing themselves into this conflict, the one thing that _was_ clear about them was that they were a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

"All right," Ami said, as they came to a halt just outside the station. "Let's meet back here in a couple of hours. That should give us all enough time to make our investigations. Be careful, everyone."

Luna and the others nodded in reply. With that, Ami turned and walked off in the direction of her appointment. Rei, Usagi and the moon cat began to walk in the opposite direction; their three routes would keep them together for a bit longer.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, with Usagi's turn to branch off drawing nearer and nearer, Rei turned toward the blonde and started speaking insistently. "Now listen, meatball-head. When you get there, you need to be subtle when you ask around. Try to get people to tell you what they've heard about this 'Ranma' person _without_ being obvious about it."

"I know, I know!" the girl insisted. "You don't need to keep—"

"And don't let your guard down!" Rei snapped over Usagi's objection. "You don't know who in there is going to be one of them, so don't trust anyone. And whatever you do, don't let on who you are!"

"I _know!_ You've only been telling me this about a billion—"

"And I'll tell it to you a billion times more, until I actually think it got through that thick skull of yours!" Rei was certainly in rare form today, Luna reflected, as the two girls sniped back and forth. "Make sure you don't go anywhere that isn't public, especially with anyone who asks you to. Also, make sure you give a false name to anyone who asks. And don't—"

"_Luuuna!_ Tell Rei to stop bossing me!"

"Well... here, we're at the point where you need to go your own way now..." said Luna hastily, trying to cut off the bickering. "Just be careful, and don't take any risks."

Usagi stuck her tongue out one last time at Rei, then turned and darted off at a right angle to the path of the other two. They watched her retreating back for a moment, and then Luna glanced up at the raven-haired girl beside her. She saw that Rei was still watching Usagi go, while chewing on her lip slightly, an anxious expression on her face.

"Don't worry," Luna said at last. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

Rei turned abruptly on her heel, continuing to walk in the direction that they had been going. "Who's worried?" she demanded, as she strode off, Luna following in her wake. "Stupid, clumsy meatball-head..."

* * *

"Hey, Gos! What about this stuff here?"

Gosunkugi watched, carefully bottling up his fuming resentment, as Saotome pranced around the aisles of the arts and crafts store that they were in. He had no appreciation for the subtle mystical nuances involved in a question like this, of course. Even if this ritual they were planning wasn't supposed to actually _do_ anything, there were proprieties to be observed when dealing with such arcane subjects.

Not that you could tell it by looking at Saotome's approach to the whole thing. For him, one shade of paint was as good as another for drawing the sigils, one type of candle as good as another for the lighting... It was infuriating—almost as infuriating as being on a _shopping trip_ with his greatest enemy in the first place.

Of course, it would all be worth it in the end. He would play along, help design Saotome's little scheme. After all, if it went as planned, it would give the Senshi a perfect chance to strike their overconfident foe down in the course of it.

And, just on the off-chance that they failed... Gosunkugi had his own plan to back them up. It had come to him in a flash of inspiration while looking at the blueprints he had obtained of Furinkan high school—a perfect opportunity that was surely the hand of destiny at work.

Now, he just had to make sure that Saotome and the others only ever saw his _altered_ blueprints...

* * *

There was something fundamentally absurd, Cologne mused, about feeling irate over staffing issues for her restaurant when the end of the world was staring her in the face. Still, at this point in the waiting game there was little else to directly occupy her. Besides, she had long since come to terms with the absurdities and contradictions of human nature.

The old woman moved swiftly around the Nekohanten's kitchen, keeping a half-dozen meals cooking at the same time. When one finished, she would toss the bowl out through the open door, sending it spinning in an arc through the air to slide unerringly to a stop on the table in front of the one who had ordered it, without spilling a drop. She could hear the customers murmuring at the display of supernatural control, but for her doing this much was nothing.

No, what annoyed _her_ about her current short-handedness was that she had been forced to suspend her delivery service without any warning. It was that sort of thing that lost customers!

But there was nothing for it; with the escalation of the conflict and the injuring of their two best fighters, both Mousse and Shampoo were devoting more time to bolstering the defenses of that little band, leaving her to keep the Nekohanten running.

She sighed, stirring multiple bowls of noodles as she reflected on what she had learned from Mousse about the most recent battle. Jadeite. It was a name known to her as a legend, not as a real man. To think that son-in-law and the lost boy had managed to bring low one of Beryl's four generals! Her heart warmed with pride at the monumental achievement.

Still, it had been a costly victory, and she knew that the situation would only get worse from here. The challenges still to come loomed darkly over her thoughts: the armies of youma, the more powerful generals, the Witch-Queen herself... and Metallia, the ravager of worlds.

_How do we combat an evil of that scale?_ she asked herself. _What technique should I use, that has a chance of harming something like that? Even the power of House Serenity only managed to imprison the abomination for a time, and it cost them their lives to do so._

And now the ancient demoness had returned, when even the memory of the foes that had defeated her was all but lost. The Queen, the Princess, the four Royal Guardians... all of them dead and buried for millennia. What Cologne would have given for their aid now! But there was no sense in wishing for the impossible, and she refused to indulge in it with so much at stake.

The sound of the Nekohanten's door sliding open cut into Cologne's brooding, and after ensuring that the meals currently cooking would keep for a bit, she used her cane to hop out into the main dining area. As she emerged, she caught her first glimpse of her latest customer.

It was immediately obvious to Cologne that this was no casual patron. The girl was young, with dark hair running down to her waist. She was _trying_ to appear at ease, and doing a commendable job at that... but the old master could read the subtle nuances of her body language like a book. Beneath the calm exterior, the girl was tense, alert, wary.

_She believes that she is in potentially hostile territory,_ Cologne thought. _Very interesting._ Particularly since the old woman could detect not the slightest hint of a youma's aura about her.

"Yes, child?" the old woman said, as the girl walked up to the counter. "How may I help you?"

The girl glanced around, looking a little uncertain. "Is Shampoo here?" she asked. "I was... hoping to talk with her."

_Ah yes,_ thought Cologne. _As I suspected._ This girl was most likely a member of that youma hunting group from the Juuban area that had somehow gotten tangled up in son-in-law's mess. What was it Mousse had called them? The "Sailor Senshi"?

At any rate, it seemed that this girl had returned to try and fish for more information... and it also seemed that she considered Cologne a less likely mark than her great-granddaughter. Allowing herself a wry smile, the old woman answered. "Shampoo is out visiting some friends right now. However... if you're willing to wait for a bit, I may be able to help you when I have a free moment."

The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Good!" Cologne said. "Then let me get you something to eat while you wait. I highly recommend the miso ramen..."

* * *

Humming a happy little tune under her breath, Ukyo flipped the okonomiyaki on the grill in front of her. She was feeling good today; the bruising she had taken from her encounter with Jadeite had almost completely healed, leaving behind only the exuberance of having helped her Ranchan when he was in such a tight spot.

The added burst of confidence had prompted her to be little more daring in her style of dress. She wasn't hiding her femininity today—the breast-bindings had been forgone, and she had allowed her hair to flow freely down her back, unconstrained by its usual severe ponytail.

_Now, if only Ranchan happens to drop by..._ she thought blissfully. _This could be the perfect opportunity! I showed him before that I could help in dangerous situations, and now I can remind him that I'm his cute fiancée!_

She flipped the okonomiyaki again, the last one from the current group of customers. _Not to mention reminding him that I can cook, too._

The sound of the door sliding open caused the young businesswoman to glance up hopefully—but it seemed that her thoughts alone had not been enough to summon Ranchan. Instead, a girl with long blonde pigtails stood in the doorway, looking back and forth around the restaurant.

Shoving her personal disappointment to the side, Ukyo gave the girl a cheerful smile. "Welcome to Ucchan's!" she said. "What can I get for you?"

The girl jumped a little, as though startled by the question. _Skittish little thing, isn't she?_ the chef thought, amused.

For a moment the girl eyed her warily, before stepping further into her establishment. "I'll have a shrimp okonomiyaki, please."

"Coming right up!" Ukyo told her, and immediately began preparing her order. The blonde girl just sat at the counter in silence, fidgeting uncomfortably, so after a little while Ukyo took it upon herself to try and make the kid feel more comfortable. "So what's your name, hon?"

"Usagi," was the girl's immediate response. Then she blanched. "I mean... uh... no, it's... _Usami_. Yeah, that's it."

_A fake name?_ Ukyo thought, perplexed. _Why would she want to... oh._ Belatedly, she remembered what Shampoo had told them about the Senshi's investigation into the Nekohanten. _Well, looks like it's my turn... Though this kid doesn't really strike me as much of a master spy._

"Well, nice to meet you, Usami," she said. "My name's Ukyo." Even as she spoke, she was pondering the situation. _Was she one of the ones in the last fight? I don't recognize her, but Beneda said something about disguise magic..._

"Um, nice to meet you too," said the girl who was definitely not named Usagi. Then, after a pause: "So, uh... what kind of things do you like to do, Ukyo? Has anything... interesting been happening lately?"

"Interesting? What do you mean?" Ukyo responded blankly—stalling while she tried to figure out how to respond to the girl's fishing for information. _I can't tell her the whole truth or it'll ruin Ranchan's plan... but I don't want my restaurant to become a target either!_

"Oh, you know, just... interesting..." was the answer, accompanied by a vague hand wave. "For example, um... oh, I heard that the Sailor Senshi were in the neighborhood the other day! Do you know anything about that?"

"I... did hear something about that, yes..." This conversation was not going in a direction that Ukyo liked. _Does she already know that I was there at that fight? If this girl actually was there herself... But then, on the other hand, I didn't get close to any of them, just to Jadeite...and I was dressed as a boy then too._ She breathed a silent prayer of thanks that she had chosen to turn on the charm for Ranma today.

So there _might_ still be a chance to divert suspicion. But how? She was in a tricky situation, and she didn't even know how much this "Usami" knew, or what she was really trying to find by coming here. If Ukyo wanted to throw the girl off track without giving herself away, she would need a careful strategy, created with all the guile and cunning she could bring to bear.

"Oh, you did hear about it?" asked the girl. "Um... what do you think about stuff like that? The Senshi, I mean, and what they're doing?"

_So... they're trying to figure out what our intentions toward them are..._ Ukyo thought. _Well, a normal person would tell the truth, and an enemy would lie, so I'm safe either way._ "Oh, I think they're doing a great job!" she said brightly. "Monster hunting is a really important duty, and I think it's great that they're helping out with it."

"Oh." The girl frowned in thought. "But... does everyone around here feel the same way? I heard something about this one guy named... Ranma...?"

_Not good._ Just the subject she wanted to avoid. She couldn't exactly claim she didn't know Ranma—it was common knowledge around here, and probably why the Senshi was here in the first place. But then just how _should_ she respond? "Oh, here," the chef said, taking advantage of an opportunity to give herself some more time to think. "Your food's done."

"Thanks!" said the girl, preparing to eat it. "Anyway, I'm really interested in learning more about this 'Ranma' guy, so anything you could tell me would be _mmmMMMM!_"

The girl's sentence cut off as she took her first bite of the okonomiyaki. Her eyes went suddenly wide, her face melting into an expression of bliss as she began to scarf down the food with wolf-like intensity. "Ommm mmy _gssh,_ Ummkyu," she somehow managed to say, even in the process of devouring it. "Thff ss _smm guud!_ Thusus th bsst ommkyumi plss evr!"

Ukyo let out a delighted laugh. _I think,_ she said to herself, _that I've just found the path to this kid's heart._ "Of course," she said aloud. "That's my family's secret recipe you're tasting. We've been perfecting it for generations; there's no way any normal chain restaurant could compare. Would you like another?"

"Usami" nodded furiously... only to freeze suddenly in mid-nod. Reaching down, she pulled out a small purse, opened it, and checked its contents. The result was a look of complete dismay. "I... I don't have enough to spare for another one..."

But the okonomiyaki chef just shook her head. "Ah, don't worry about it, kiddo. This one's on the house."

Like flicking on a light switch, the girl's face immediately brightened back up again into a beaming smile. "Really? You mean it?"

"Of course," Ukyo said, getting out the ingredients as she spoke. "You know, you remind me of someone I met, back when I was traveling around Japan searching for... well, searching for someone I had to settle things with. Her name was Kohana, and said the same sort of things about my okonomiyaki. Although... it was something a bit more _dangerous_ than food that threw us together at first..."

"Dangerous?" The Senshi girl leaned closer in rapt attention, her previous line of questioning completely forgotten.

Ukyo smiled. "Oh yes," she said, relaxing as she felt her control over the conversation solidifying. "You see, she was a pretty girl—pretty, but as frail as can be—and unfortunately she'd caught the attention of a real jackass who was determined to make her his girlfriend..."

* * *

Shampoo sighed as she lounged against the wall of the clinic, arms crossed, drumming her fingers in boredom. She was supposed to be here as a reserve in case the youma managed to find this place, but the monsters hadn't been so obliging, and so she was left with nothing to do.

It wasn't a problem when Ranma was there, of course. Then it became a perfect opportunity to remind her Airen of the depth of her loyalty, to help him to admit to the deep bonds of passionate love that they had for each other. But at the moment he was gone, slipped out on an errand of some kind, and Shampoo was left at a loose end. Briefly she considered trying to find Akane and antagonize the other girl a bit, but dismissed the idea. She wasn't really in the mood.

The Joketsuzoku warrior's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the clinic door. _Maybe Airen back!_ she thought excitedly, as she began to hurry toward the source of the noise.

Up ahead she heard the door swing open, and heard Kasumi's voice speaking—evidently the older girl had already answered it. "Oh, hello! Are you a patient for Doctor Tofu?"

Disappointed, Shampoo slowed her pace. It wasn't Ranma after all. Meanwhile, the answer to Kasumi's question came in the voice of a young girl. "No, not really," she said. "I'm just here to talk to him, if he has time. He's a friend of my mother's, and she called earlier to make the appointment..."

"How nice!" was Kasumi's reply. "Follow me, I'll take you right to him."

Shampoo kept walking, albeit slower, still mildly curious about this visitor. She could hear them coming toward her as well, chatting amicably as they headed toward the stairs. The Joketsuzoku girl turned the corner that brought her into sight of the pair—

—and then she flung herself back the way she had come, with all the incredible speed of a martial artist, disappearing around the corner again in the blink of an eye. Her eyes were wide, her heart hammering in her chest as her mind raced desperately. _What that girl doing here?_

There was no mistaking it; the girl that was even now deep in conversation with Kasumi had been one of the girls that had visited the Nekohanten looking for information. The Sailor Senshi.

It seemed to Shampoo that her high-speed evasion had kept her from being noticed. But the footsteps were still approaching, and would round the corner themselves at any moment. Shampoo whirled to one of the nearby side doors and ducked through it, shutting it behind her.

The footsteps continued on past, but it was no cause for relief. _Senshi-girl is going up to see doctor!_ If this was another investigation, meeting _him_ would give away their new hiding place completely!

Even as the desperate thoughts ran through her head, she heard the two pairs of footsteps reach the stairs and begin their assent. _No time!_ she thought. _Shampoo need plan, Shampoo need plan, Shampoo need—_

Sudden, crazed inspiration hit her. She charged back out into the hallway, hair flying behind her as she ran for the clinic's rear exit. The footsteps were almost at the top of the stairs now. She had only seconds left.

She burst through the door leading outside... and there he was. Sitting at a shogi board, staring at the game that had been halted in progress, no doubt trying to determine the best way to rearrange the pieces to his advantage without it being too obvious. Saotome Genma. "Ah, Sham—" he began.

But the Joketsuzoku girl cut him off. "Senshi-girl is here! _Come now!_" she hissed, then grabbed the startled Genma and made a leap toward the second-story window.

* * *

It was _entirely_ unreasonable, Ami insisted to herself as she walked up the stairs, for her to be feeling nervous in this situation. She was just going to visit a friend of her mother's. It was perfectly normal. Nothing at all to get worked up about.

Yet she was nervous. Her mother had spoken so highly of this man, all the mysterious, ancient and nearly-forgotten secrets of medicine that he was said to have studied. Ami wanted desperately to make a good impression on someone as wise as that.

And on top of that, there was her mother's remark about how good-looking the doctor was. Ami blushed a little, trying _not_ to think about that... but the butterflies in her stomach didn't quite go away.

She shook herself a little. This was ridiculous. She had no right whatsoever to be feeling so worried over such trivial matters. All her teammates were, at this very moment, following leads that might put them in very _real_ danger. In fact, she was the only one who _didn't_ have any reason to worry about the possibility of facing their new enemies during the course of her investigation.

Soon they reached the second floor, and they walked down the length of the hallway to the door on its far end. Kasumi turned toward her. "He's right in there," she said pleasantly.

Ami nodded in thanks, took a deep breath, and reached out her hand for the doorknob. Turning it, the door began to swing inward...

Suddenly there was the sound of a thump from inside, followed by a half-second of scuffling, fluttering, and a sound like a slamming door. But, by the time the door had opened enough so that she could see inside, there was nothing visible that could have caused such strange noises. There was a wheeled bed there with someone laying on it—a cloth seemed to have been thrown over his body for some reason. And, standing next to that bed...

"Are you... Doctor Tofu?" Ami asked, unable to keep a hint of disbelief out of her voice.

The man was heavyset and definitely well into middle age. A white bandanna covered a head that had obviously gone completely bald. He looked at her blankly, seemed to hesitate, then finally spoke. "Why... ah... yes..." he said at last. "Yes, I'm Doctor Tofu."

* * *

As she had hurtled through the window into the treatment room where Doctor Tofu was, Shampoo had dropped Genma to the floor. As soon as her feet hit the floor she spun, continuing her momentum to tackle the surprised doctor and push him toward the nearby closet. As their trajectory carried the two of them past where Ryouga lay, Shampoo reached out with her free hand, grabbing one of the sheets underneath the unconscious boy, and yanking it out from under him and flipping it over to cover him instead.

And then they were past him, careening toward the closet door. Tofu, evidently deciding to play along, reached back and opened it in mid-flight, allowing them to slip through. The force of Shampoo's charge slammed the two of them into the tiny space, and the Joketsuzoku warrior slammed the door shut the instant they were inside.

She had hardly done so when she heard the Senshi's disembodied voice coming from the room outside. "Are you... Doctor Tofu?"

Shampoo controlled her breathing, keeping as silent as possible as she and Doctor Tofu tried to adjust themselves into as comfortable a position as they could manage in such cramped confines. After a brief pause, she heard Genma's voice. "Why... ah... yes... Yes, I'm Doctor Tofu." He paused, then spoke again. "Is... something the matter?"

"Oh, no..." said the Senshi, sounding a little off-balance. "It's just that my mother said that you—" She broke off abruptly, as though just realizing what she was actually saying, and her voice became extremely flustered. "I mean, not that you _aren't_—! I mean... Um, that is, I mean..."

Then Kasumi's voice broke in. "But... what are you two talking about?" she asked, sounding puzzled. "Why are you calling yorsel—"

Behind her, Shampoo heard Tofu suck in a sharp breath as Kasumi began to speak. She looked over her shoulder, and saw that the doctor's glasses had completely fogged up, and a manic expression was growing on his face. He began to claw desperately for the handle of the closet door. "Kas—_oof!_"

Shampoo slammed an elbow back into his gut. In a normal situation, she knew that she wouldn't stand a chance against the more experienced master... but in his current state he was focused on only one thing... and it _wasn't_ her.

She immediately followed the attack by reaching back and digging her fingers into Tofu's hair, driving his head down into her knee once, twice, three times. She then flung the groggy doctor back upright, finishing him off with a headbutt using the back of her head to his chin. His head snapped back, but without enough room in the tiny closet to actually _fall_, he simply rebounded off the back wall and slumped limply over Shampoo.

"What was _that_?" asked the Senshi in a startled voice.

Genma laughed. "Oh... just some supplies in the closet falling over. They do that every so often. It's... the rats, you see. Sometimes they knock things off the shelves."

_"Rats?"_ echoed the Senshi, incredulously. "In a clinic? Why haven't you done anything about them?"

"Well... they're... well behaved for the most part..." The strain was starting to show a bit in Genma's voice. "Now! Kasumi. Why don't you run along and... fix up some dinner, please? Very, very quickly?"

There was a brief pause, followed by a puzzled, "All right. If you say so..." After that came the sound of departing footsteps, and Shampoo started breathing again.

Genma, for his part, addressed the Senshi once more. "So. What did you want to see me about, miss...?"

"Mizuno," supplied the girl. "Mizuno Ami. I... wanted to ask you about pressure point techniques—whether you know who might use something like that, or how they could be countered, or any other details."

_So that why Sailor-girl here..._ realized Shampoo. That was a relief. Their secret seemed to be safe after all.

At least, for the moment. The immediate crisis had been averted, but the clinic was still filled with people that the Senshi could connect to their new opponents. Not just Tofu, but Ryogua, Akane, Shampoo herself... Thankfully, at least Ranma and Beneda were out of the picture.

"I see, I see..." she heard Genma respond, trying hard to affect a sage-like tone of voice. "Well, why don't you describe what you're trying to discover to me, and I'll see what I can do to help you."

Slowly, Shampoo eased the closet door open just a crack, peeking out into the room to see what was going on. The Senshi was standing over by Genma, with her back to the closet, as she began to describe in detail the kind of paralysis that the real Tofu had used in the last fight. Perfect. It meant that Shampoo could get out of here and warn Akane as well. All her efforts would be for nothing if the kitchen destroyer blundered in here unawares.

Inch by inch, as carefully as she could, she opened the closet door even wider. Soon she had reached the point where she could slip through the opening. There was a brief awkwardness where she had to prop the unconscious doctor against one of the walls to keep him from falling over and potentially making a noise, but she quickly cleared that and crept out into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Now stealth was everything. She held her breath as she slowly tiptoed across the floor, keeping her eyes locked on the Senshi's back for the slightest sign of her turning around. Her every nerve was strung tightly. The slightest noise, she knew, could betray her. Step by step, she worked her way out into the middle of the room, and began backing toward the door leading out to the hallway. Closer... Closer... At last, having almost reached it, the Joketsuzoku girl turned around—

—and just about ran straight into Akane as the other girl walked in through the doorway. "Shampoo, wha—_mmfh!_"

The young warrior's hand shot out like lightning, clamping over the other girl's mouth and tackling her, as Shampoo dove forward as fast as she could. She spun, grabbing the edge of the door with her free hand and swinging it all the way open, while twisting the two of them behind it, hidden from sight between it and the wall.

They stood there, clenched together behind the door, silent, for second after agonizing second—Akane's eyes wide with incredulity, Shampoo frantically mouthing an explanation of what was going on. At length, they heard Genma speak up. "What is it, Miss Mizuno? What are you looking at?"

They could almost hear the frown in the Senshi's voice. "I... I'm _sure_ I heard something strange that time..."

"Really?" asked Genma. "I didn't hear a thing, and I didn't see anything that could have caused it..."

"But..."

"Besides, even if it was something, I'm sure it's nothing," Genma continued over her protest. "Why don't you continue explaining the details of that fascinating technique you were telling me about?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Shampoo heard the Senshi girl resume her description where she had left off. The young warrior breathed a sigh of relief, and felt her rival next to her do likewise.

_Is big mess in every direction..._ reflected Shampoo resignedly. The ones out to kill them had come for a social call, and with the unconscious Tofu in the closet, the unconscious Ryouga covered up on the bed, and herself and Akane hiding behind the door, they had managed to collect _every single person_ in the clinic that the Senshi would recognize and put them in the exact same room as her, mere feet away from being revealed.

About the only _good_ point to the whole debacle was that, with everybody already here, at least it couldn't get much worse.

* * *

Ranma jogged through the door to the clinic, a shopping bag in each hand. "Hey Kasumi!" he called out in greeting. Then he glanced around. "Where is everybody?"

"Oh, Ranma, you're back early!" the demure young woman said happily. "Everyone else seems to be upstairs in the treatment room. I'm... not quite sure what they're doing up there. But it seemed to be important."

"Huh. Didn't hear anything about that." Ranma stashed the bags in a corner, then jogged toward the stairs, calling back over his shoulder as he did so. "Well, thanks! Think I'll go see what they're up to..."

* * *

"...and you say that your great-granddaughter has been spending more and more time with this 'Ranma' person?"

Cologne nodded, hiding her amusement at how earnest and intent the child was in her investigation. She had passion, this one. It was still raw and undeveloped at the moment, but considering the conflict in which she was taking part that would soon change. Few knew better than Cologne the ability of the battlefield to harden and refine.

"That is correct," the ancient master said. A lag in the flow of customers had allowed them time to talk like this, and Cologne was taking the opportunity to subtly support the deception that her son-in-law was trying to achieve... as well as fulfilling some idle curiosity of her own about these young vigilantes. "Shampoo's behavior is almost entirely focused on him. It's begun to worry me of late. He seems to have an almost... unnatural hold on her."

"I see..." the girl frowned, and Cologne could practically see the gears turning in her head as she spoke. "Do you have any idea where she is now?"

"No, I'm afraid that I don't," the old woman sighed. "I've tried so very hard to separate the two of them, but she always manages to slip away. I fear she is with him even as we speak..."

The girl met Cologne's eyes, determination burning in her gaze. "Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I'm sure your great-granddaughter will be safe. I... even heard that the Sailor Senshi got involved with this Ranma the other day. I'm sure they wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"Thank you, child. That's good of you to say." Then Cologne decided to examine her a little deeper. "But... this Ranma fellow... from everything I've heard he's extremely powerful himself. Even the Senshi might find themselves outmatched." Cologne's gaze narrowed imperceptibly in on the girl. "What would they do then? If they faced an enemy beyond anything they could hope to match, what would they do?"

"Fight," the girl replied, without missing a beat. Then she paused, grimacing. "Well, _most_ of them would, anyway. Whatever would happen in the battle, it'd be much worse to just stand aside and turn a blind eye to evil."

_A fine answer..._ thought Cologne approvingly. _Such interesting people son-in-law picks his fights with. It never ceases to amaze me..._

* * *

Shampoo waited in her hiding place behind the door, bored stiff, but not having many other options. This was the safest course of action now—even if it meant having to share the cramped space with her rival, while listening to an old panda try to pretend to be an acupressure master.

"Yes, yes, it sounds like you're describing an advanced technique..." she heard Genma say, his voice solemn. "It... probably disturbs the ki flow along the central meridians, and uses that to interfere with the limb movements. Very high-level."

The Joketsuzoku girl had to admit that—even though his own style was a mainly a striking art—the elder Saotome had apparently picked up enough knowledge on related subjects during his martial arts training to make what he said at least _sound_ fairly impressive. She doubted the Senshi would be able to tell the difference, anyway. Apparently, she had made a good choice for her stand-in.

Then, without warning, the young warrior heard the soft patter of footsteps jogging down the hallway toward them.

Shampoo's eyes went wide, and she looked over at Akane, who looked back with a similar expression. Who could it be? Kasumi again? No, the gait was completely wrong. But if not her...

"Ummm... ah... Miss Mizuno, I..." from the rising panic in Genma's voice, Shampoo guessed that _he_ could see who it was. If the Senshi was still in her original position it meant that she had her back to the door, but that would only buy them mere seconds...

The Joketsuzoku girl turned, looking across Akane's shoulder to where the door met the wall, staring through the tiny crack. To her dismay, she saw a red-and-black-clad figure pass through on the other side, even as Ranma's voice spoke up. "Hey, what's—"

Shampoo slammed the door shut with all her might, catching Ranma right in the face and sending him flying back down the hallway. In the same fraction of an instant, she and Akane both burst into blurs of desperate motion.

Akane made a headlong dive toward one of the nearby counters. She swung the door open in mid-flight, using it as the fulcrum to twist herself around it and tuck herself inside, curling up tightly into a ball and slamming the door shut behind her.

For her part, Shampoo dove behind the unconscious Ryogua's hospital bed, catching hold of the sheet that was draped over him and pulling it down so that one side of it hung over the edge of the bed, forming a makeshift curtain between her and the Senshi.

That, of course, meant that the _other_ side of the sheet was now only barely covering the just-as-recognizable Ryouga.

"What was _that?_" asked the Senshi-girl, having turned around at the sudden noise to find, once again, nothing there.

"Just... the door slamming shut..." Genma said weakly. "It does that sometimes. Must be... the wind."

Shampoo winced at the terrible excuse, then paled at the girl's next words. "But... I didn't feel any... _oh!_ Doctor Tofu, the sheet's almost fallen off your patient!" This was immediately followed by footsteps as the girl walked over, reaching out her hand toward the cloth that was just barely covering both Ryouga and Shampoo.

"Miss Mizuno! _Miss Mizuno!_" Genma called out, his voice panicky. "Please, _please_ don't touch that! It's... it's part of a very delicate operation!"

The Senshi halted, one step shy of the bed Shampoo was hidden behind. However, anything she might have said in reply was interrupted by the sound of footsteps stomping back down the hallway. A moment later, a recovered Ranma flung the door open and stormed angrily into the room.

And into a perfectly-timed splash of water as well.

On hearing his son's approaching footsteps, Genma had rushed over to the sink and filled a nearby cup with cold water, as the Senshi watched his actions in puzzlement. Then, just before Ranma entered, Genma had hurled the contents of the cup off in that direction. The pigtailed martial artist was caught the instant he opened the door, turning from his male form to his female form.

If the Senshi girl had been puzzled before, now it sounded as though she were actively questioning someone's sanity—either theirs or hers. "Doctor Tofu?" she asked, sounding utterly lost. "Um... why did you just splash her with water?"

* * *

Ranma didn't know what was going on here, but it was becoming increasingly clear that something fishy was up. Knocking him back down the hall, then transforming him to a her when he tried to demand some answers... It looked like her dad was trying to keep her presence a secret from this blue-haired chick, and without any better ideas, the pigtailed fighter figured she'd better play along.

"The water? Oh that's just a little greeting the two of us have!" Genma was answering through a painfully wide smile. "Miss Mizuno, this is my daughter, named... um... _Akane!_ Akane, this is Miss Mizuno Ami. She's here to research defenses against certain paralyzing chiropractic techniques."

"Oh," Ranma said. Then it clicked. "_Oh._ Right, yeah, well, you really couldn't have picked a better guy to teach you than good old dad. Seriously, he's the best teacher for that kind of stuff there is."

Ami glanced over at Ranma. "Oh, are you learning from him too, Akane?" she asked.

"Who, me?" Ranma answered, trying to adopt a girlish demeanor. "Oh, _no!_ I'm _way_ too much of a klutzy tomboy for that! I'd probably dislocate all my patients' limbs trying to fix 'em! Heck, if my medicines were as bad as my _cooking_ is, I'd probably _kill_ all my patients before they even..."

She trailed off, suddenly nervous for some reason. The hair on the back of her neck was prickling, and—although she couldn't quite explain it—she got the strange impression that there were silent waves of seething anger radiating out from a simple, unassuming cabinet behind her.

"...anyway, yeah," Ranma said hurriedly. "The point is, I don't know anything about any of that medicine or martial arts stuff. I'm just a completely normal girl, nothing out of the ordinary about m—"

She broke off, eyes widening, as a spectacled duck flew in through the window behind Ami. Oblivious to Ranma's panic, Mousse landed on the sink and turned on the hot water with his beak, resuming his human form. "Well, it looks like the danger is over for now," he announced. "So we decided to— hey, who's this?"

Ami turned around at the words... and promptly let out a shriek of shock and embarrassment at the sight of the stark naked boy standing there. She whirled instantly away, and began studying the far wall with furious intensity, her face a brilliant crimson. "D... doctor Tofu, who is...? Why is he...?"

Ranma and Genma looked at each other helplessly, until Genma finally blurted out an answer. "It's because... he's... Akane's fiancé, Ranma!"

It was fortunate that the Senshi was staring only at the wall, or she would have seen both Ranma and Mousse's faces turn green with revulsion at the thought. But the pigtailed girl gritted her teeth, and spoke up brightly. "Yes, you'll have to forgive my honey _Ranma_ here... He just gets so... _eager_... when he's around me, you see..."

Impossibly, Ami's blush became even _more_ pronounced, until Ranma was afraid the girl might spontaneously combust. Mousse, for his part, looked as though he were seconds away from throwing up, but he gritted his teeth too, and responded in kind. "I... see. Yes, I'm sorry for disturbing you, miss. I had thought that the only one here would be my... _darling Akane_."

"I... I understand!" Ami choked out. "Just... please, _please_ put some clothes on!"

"Right!" Ranma said hurriedly. "I'll get something right away!" She turned and grabbed the first covering that caught her eye—a sheet lying haphazardly across the nearby bed. She frantically slammed it back down again, however, once she saw just who was underneath it.

That being a failure, she turned to her next best bet—that there might be something suitable in the nearby closet. She raced over to it, opened the door... and then her eyes bulged as Doctor Tofu's unconscious body toppled out of it. Hands blurring, Ranma stuffed the doctor back in as fast as she could, slamming the door shut again.

Finally, with nothing else in sight, she knelt down and reached for the door to one of the lower counters. She swung it open, then jerked back as the opening door revealed Akane's face, glaring directly at her. There was silence for a moment, and then Akane wordlessly handed her a white towel, before slamming the door closed again.

Ranma tossed the towel to Mousse, then turned back to Ami. "All right," she called out. "It's safe to look now."

Slowly, the Senshi turned around, and saw that Mousse was now at least somewhat clothed. "Ah. Th- thank you..." she said to the towel-wearing boy. Then she frowned. "...Ranma, was it? It's strange. I... met someone else named Ranma recently. But of course, he didn't look anything like you."

Mousse laughed harshly. "Oh yes. I've... heard of this other fellow around here with the same name as me. _Truly_ a reprehensible character, without any morals or redeeming points. There's nothing that shames me more than being associated with him like that."

Ranma's smile didn't waver, although her right eye did twitch just a little. "That's nice, dear," she said.

"He's an enemy of all women, you know," Mousse continued with relish. "Has a whole harem of girls, stringing them along, keeping them from their true loves. He's even got some male lovers as well—and keeps all of them at the same time. He's an utter sexual maniac."

"_Yes_, dear," Ranma said, her tone fast becoming glacial. "I think she understands what you're saying already."

"In fact, he's _so_ depraved that—"

"Oh _look_, Miss Mizuno!" Ranma cut in sweetly. "What's that behind you?" Puzzled, the Senshi turned around to see what she was talking about.

The instant she had turned far enough that they were out of her peripheral vision, Ranma and Mousse exploded into action with mind-boggling speed. Their arms vanished from sight as they each delivered and deflected an intricate storm of countless blows, battering away at each others' guard faster than the eye could hope to follow. It ended when Ranma slipped an elbow through into Mousse's stomach, then twisted that up into a backfist that caught the nearsighted martial artist right in the face.

A second later, when the Senshi turned back around, the two were standing together again, arm in arm, smiles painted across their faces. "I didn't see any—" she began, then broke off with a gasp. "Oh, Ranma, your nose is bleeding!"

Sure enough, a trail of blood was running down from Mousse's nose. Ranma let out a girlish giggle. "A nosebleed!" she tittered. "Oooh, I bet you were thinking about _me_ again, weren't you?" She reached over and began to pinch his cheek. "Such a _perrrverrrt..._"

Ami had to immediately take a few hurried steps back, to distance herself from the sheer level of killing intent in the gaze that Mousse was fixing on Ranma.

"Anyway!" interjected Genma, trying his best to defuse the fast-deteriorating situation. "There was... something I wanted to do for you right away, Miss Mizuno, before this goes _any further_. It seems to me, just from what I've seen today, that you've been... suffering under some unfortunate afflictions. For example, hearing voices that aren't there, seeing unexplained movements out of the corner of your eye... All classic signs of stress, really. _Have_ you been under any kind of unusual stress lately, Miss Mizuno?"

The girl blanched a little. "Uh, no! No, not at all!"

"I see." Then Genma shrugged. "Well, in any case, the power of acupressure is _just_ what you need to deal with these symptoms. After this treatment, the cause of those problems will _go away_."

Ami raised her eyebrows a little, backing up a couple steps. "Really, I'm quite fine, Doctor Tofu. You don't need to—_auugh!_" Over her protests, Genma spun her around, bent her over, and held her there as he began to poke random spots on her back and neck. "Doctor Tofu! _Doctor Tofu!_ What are you— _stop that, please!_"

With Genma holding her in that position, it was the chance Shampoo and Akane had been waiting for. They crept out of their hiding places, taking care to stay behind the Senshi, and proceeded to sneak safely out of the room.

As soon as they were gone, Genma let the spluttering girl back up. "There!" he said, satisfied. "You won't need to worry about that happening to you any more."

"I... ah... thank you..." the girl said, in a frosty voice that didn't sound thankful in the slightest. "In any case... I _really_ think that there isn't much more I can learn here. So I'm afraid that I will have to take my leave. Right now."

Inside, Ranma let out a breath of relief. Finally. They had managed to get Akane, and _especially_ Shampoo out of their precarious hiding places and into better ones elsewhere in the clinic. Better yet, it seemed that his pop's inappropriate way of handling it had been the final straw to convince her to leave as well. And since neither Mousse, nor her dad, nor her curse form were even recognizable to the Senshi, it was just a matter of hanging on for these last few minutes.

"It's been a... pleasure... meeting you," the girl continued valiantly. "Doctor Tofu, Akane, Ranma... thank you for all your hospitality."

"Don't mention it!" said Ranma. "Come back anytime!"

Ami's smile became slightly fixed. "I'll... see what I can do..." she managed. Then she gave each of them a bow. "Goodbye."

"See ya!" was Ranma's response. And with that, the girl turned and began to walk toward the door.

"_Uhhhhnnnnggghh..._" came a muffled, pain-filled groan. It halted the Senshi's exit, as she glanced over her shoulder toward the bed in the center of the room, where it had come from. As Ranma watched, horrified, Ryouga's sheet-covered form stirred, then began to pull himself upright. "Doctor Tofu? Is the treatment over?" the lost boy mumbled, as he grabbed hold of the sheet and began to pull it off his body.

The instant before Ryouga managed to reveal himself, Genma lunged forward and delivered a mighty kick to the bed he was laying on. Both it and the boy laying on it were launched through the air as though fired from a cannon, shooting right past the disbelieving Senshi with a blast of displaced air.

Ryouga's head clipped the top of the doorway on the way out, tearing a chunk out of it and sending him into a crazy spin as he and the bed crashed end over end down the length of the hallway... until he reached the stairway at the far end. The descending crunches and smashing sounds continued long after he had vanished from sight, until finally they came to a stop far below.

Everything was dead silent for a few seconds.

Ami's eyes were bulging in horror, her mouth hanging open. Eventually she tried to speak. "Wha...?" she somehow managed. "What was...? What did you just...?"

Genma drew himself upright, and cleared his throat. "That..." he said, with the utmost seriousness. "...was a highly advanced massage technique, very important to use just as the patient is waking up. By precisely controlling the initial kick, the massage is given by the various collisions along the way. This takes the principles of the traditional massage, and the principles of _fung shui_ which describe the ki flow within a_ building_... and combines them to result in _twice_ the benefit to the patient!"

The Senshi said nothing in reply to that. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, as though she were trying to form words, but nothing quite managed to come out. Her eyes had a curious, glazed look to them, as though she had already half-decided that this was all one long, unpleasant dream that she would be waking up from at any moment.

* * *

Several minutes later, Ami found herself outside the clinic. Her memories of actually getting there were somewhat blurry, probably due to the daze she had been in. She had wanted to at _least_ check on the poor patient who had been kicked down the stairs—_kicked down the stairs!_—but even in this she had been foiled. By the time she had gotten downstairs he had already been whisked away, with no sign of where he was or who had moved him.

The young girl's brain made a beleaguered attempt to try and twist everything she had seen into something resembling coherency, to discern some rhyme or reason to the bizarre behavior of her mother's friend. But she soon discovered that she didn't really _want_ to find sense in such absurd actions. There was, in fact, a much simpler, _much_ more straightforward answer, one which perfectly explained everything she had seen today.

They were _all insane_.

Clearly, that entire place was a madhouse. Whatever he had been when her mother had known him, the Doctor Tofu of today was, without question, completely unbalanced. She had seen the evidence with her own eyes. Perhaps, she thought, it had resulted from his experimentation into poorly-understood and mysticism-obscured ancient treatments, done without proper testing, safety precautions and scientific rigor.

Well, if Doctor Tofu wasn't going to be of any help, then they would have to defeat this new foe on their own. They would find a way to do it. They always did.

Right now, Ami just wanted to get back home, to her textbooks and her _real_ medicine, where things made _sense_.

* * *

"I see..." the black-haired Senshi murmured. "So you think that this Ranma and his gang are lying low for the time being?"

"Almost certainly," was Cologne's reply. "Perhaps even somewhere outside the ward; it's difficult to say. But either way, I'm certain that they are preparing for something. Something of a _very_ large scale."

The young girl frowned in thought for a while, then looked up. "Thank you very much," she said. "I need to go now, but I'm very grateful for everything you've told me."

"Think nothing of it," the ancient master said with a wave of her hand. "I only wish that I could do more to rescue my great granddaughter from the clutches of that Ranma fellow. But what could a frail old woman like me do against such a powerful opponent?"

"Don't worry," the girl assured her. "It'll all work out. I promise." And with that, she turned and hurried out of the Nekohanten.

Cologne watched her go, musing to herself over the brief, largely inconsequential encounter. Surprisingly, she found that her sprits had lifted quite a bit from their earlier state. The odds against them were still as bleak as before... but hearing the young girl's determination had been heartening.

_We may not have the aid of the Moon Kingdom anymore..._ thought the old woman. _But as long as we have brave souls like hers, I'll not give up hope just yet._

* * *

"...so instead, I just started hitting his hammers right out of the air with my spatulas," Ukyo said, as the girl who was absolutely not named Usagi listened with wide eyes. "And _that's_ when the jerk really started to realize just how much trouble he was in."

"_Wow!_" exclaimed the blonde girl—in between bites on her third okonomiyaki. Ukyo was impressed; this kid could give Ranchan a run for his money when it came to packing away food. "So did you get the stolen photo back from him?"

"Of course," was Ukyo's confident answer. "And I made him apologize to the old woman on his hands and knees, too."

"_So_ cool..."

Ukyo smiled. While she hadn't been able to discuss any of the adventures she'd had since coming to Nerima, for obvious reasons, she still all kinds of stories from her time on the road, training and searching for Ranma. The incognito Senshi had proved an eager audience, and the chef had been able to steer completely clear of any undesirable topics as they chatted. It had been... fun.

Eventually, though, the girl sighed. "Actually... I think I need to be going now..." she said glumly. "I need to meet my friends, and _one_ of them will be mad at me if I'm late. But it was really nice talking with you, Ukyo! And thanks _so much_ for all the free food!"

"Don't mention it," replied the chef. "I had a good time too. You take care of yourself, kiddo."

"I will!" And with that, still waving behind her, the blonde exited the shop.

_So that's a Sailor Senshi..._ Ukyo mused, as she watched her go. _Heh. Not really what I would have expected, that's for sure..._

* * *

When Ami finally arrived back at the rendezvous point, she found to her mild surprise that she was the last one there. Luna, Rei, and even Usagi were already standing there, waiting for her. Usagi perked up as the blue-haired girl approached.

"Hey, Ami!" she called out eagerly. "There you are! How did your investigation go?"

Ami sighed, still not quite sure what to say. "I learned some... interesting things about alternative medicine..." she told them. _And about my mother's taste in men,_ she thought, though thankfully she managed not to say that part out loud. "None of it was really useful, though."

"It was the same for me," added Luna. "The building Shampoo described to us didn't have anyone there. They must have abandoned it."

"How about you, Usagi?" Ami asked. "What did you find out at Ucchan's?"

"All kinds of stuff!" answered the blonde girl excitedly. "I talked with the owner the whole time, and she's the nicest person in the whole world and there's _no way_ she could possibly be evil!"

Rei gave a skeptical glance at the pronouncement, but didn't say anything against it. Instead, she spoke up on what she had learned. "I talked with the owner of the Nekohanten, and she told me some very troubling things. According to her, this Ranma really _is_ trying to accomplish something malevolent. Worse, whatever is going on... it's all coming to a head soon."

The sobering news shook Ami out of her preoccupation with the mad antics she had witnessed at the clinic, and she chided herself for getting as distracted as she had. With stakes as high as these, there could be no room for error—as the Sailor Senshi stood alone at the crux of two terrifyingly powerful forces of evil.

* * *

Ryouga groaned, looking out through half-lidded eyes from his prone position at the others gathered in his room: Akane, Ukyo, Beneda, Shampoo, Mousse and Ranma. He was having a bit of trouble focusing on what they were saying. His trip down the stairs earlier that day had done such a number on his back that he was having to resort to the paltry handful of meditation techniques that he had managed to pick up on his travels in order to keep himself functional through the pain.

"...anyway, looks like we barely dodged the bullet this time." Ranma's voice. Ryouga tilted his head slightly to look at his rival, who continued. "But the secret's still safe, so we should be all right to go ahead with the plan."

"Are you sure that the Senshi who came here won't get suspicious?" asked Akane. "You weren't exactly acting _normal_ when you were talking with her..."

"I don't think she will," answered Mousse. "If the girl really came here to learn from the doctor—simply because she'd heard he was an expert in such matters—then just seeing some strange behavior wouldn't give her any reason to actually connect it with her enemies."

Shampoo huffed. "Violent girl no worry. _Next_ time, Shampoo is being ready for this. Will ask great-grandmother to make more Formula 411, and just use Xi Fa Xiang Gao if nosy Sailor girl come here again."

Akane grimaced, probably recalling her _own_ time under the influence of the technique. "Shampoo, they're not _really_ our enemies! We can't go around playing with their minds just to make things easier for us!"

The lost boy tilted his head, favoring Ranma with a baleful look. "Why is it so important that we keep all this a secret, anyway?" he growled. "Couldn't we avoid all this trouble by just _explaining_ things to the Senshi, and asking for their help?"

Ranma shook his head. "No, this way is better," he said. "First of all, what about Beneda? Even if she was trying to trick us by saying it back then, she still had a point—they _are_ youma hunters. We don't _really_ know if they'd be willing to just let her be."

Ukyo raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. "I really think you're being too paranoid, Ranchan," she told him. "The one I talked to definitely seemed like a good kid. I couldn't imagine her being so bloodthirsty."

"I agree with Ukyo," put in Beneda herself. "That was the impression I got too, when I talked with them before the fight."

"Maybe." Ranma shrugged, looking unconvinced. "But if we do tell 'em, and we're _wrong_ about that, then we're sunk. We can't exactly _un_-tell them, you know." Then he chuckled. "Besides, this way'll be more realistic."

"Realistic because they'll really be trying to _kill_ you two!" said the youma, flabbergasted. "This can't be worth it!"

"No... Saotome has a point," responded Mousse, albeit very grudgingly. "If we told them the truth, and they did agree to go along with this, then when the time came they probably _wouldn't_ attack us with a full intent to kill. And someone with enough combat experience would be able to pick up on that. They would know the Senshi were faking."

"Right," said Ranma. "And we don't know who exactly will end up seeing this. If I gotta bet the whole plan on something, I'd rather do it on _my_ fighting skills than on those girls' acting skills."

"Fine, have it your way," Ryouga grumbled. "After all, what's a few _more_ people trying to kill us?"

"That's the spirit!" Ranma told him. "Though _you_ might want to sit out of it this time, man. I mean, you aren't exactly in the best shape for something like this. I could handle it myself."

Ryouga took a moment to reflect on what Ranma had said. Over the past week he had been pounded into the pavement by a giant monster, clawed up by a pack of dog-like creatures, electrocuted to within an inch of his life, took the full-force blast of a magical flamethrower, and had been kicked down the stairs while recovering from it. He felt more dead than alive at this point, and the coming confrontation might well prove to be the most dangerous one yet.

He met Ranma's eyes. "Just _try_ and keep me away."

The pigtailed fighter laughed, rolling his eyes. "Should have figured. Anyway, this'll be it. In a couple days, we're going to get the same kind of advantage for fighting the Dark Kingdom that the Senshi have."

"Let's just hope it works..." muttered Mousse. "And don't forget... tomorrow, the Joketsuzoku arrive."

Ranma's face took on a determined look. "I know," he said. "I haven't forgotten."


	16. New Arrivals

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: New Arrivals

Cologne slid open the front door of the Nekohanten, allowing dawn's first light to flow in. She drew in a deep breath, then let it out again. Such mornings were to be savored. This was something she had come to appreciate more as she grew older, as fewer and fewer such mornings remained to her.

She hopped outside on her cane, looking up and down the street. It was deserted in every direction. That was good. Her kinswomen would be here soon, and the less people who saw them arriving, the better.

Inside the restaurant, all was in readiness. She had gathered her supplies, organizing them in preparation to act. She had also called Shampoo and Mousse back from Doctor Tofu's clinic temporarily—they were inside the Nekohanten even now, and would be included in the Joketsuzoku war plan.

Which meant that there was only one thing left to do.

Taking one more glance at her silent surroundings, the ancient master heaved a sigh, then reached down and broke off a small chunk of the pavement between her fingers. She tossed it idly into the air and caught it a few times, as though gauging its weight—though she had no real need.

Then, in a blur too fast to follow, her hand shot out, launching the tiny projectile with terrifying speed. It hit a nearby telephone pole, ricocheting off of it to disappear behind the edge of the Nekohanten's roof. It was followed by a solid _thunk_, and a pain-filled _"Ow!"_

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Ranma's face appeared over the edge of the rooftop, glaring down at her. "Why son-in-law!" Cologne said, injecting a note of surprised concern into her voice. "I'm _terribly_ sorry about that! You were hiding your presence so well I didn't even realize you were there!" Ranma's sour look told her exactly what he thought of that claim, and Cologne had to smother a smirk.

_So, Mousse did tell him about our reinforcements,_ the old woman thought. _I might have expected that from Shampoo, but I wasn't sure whether Mousse would go that far. That youma must have been... convincing._

Not that she hadn't accounted for the possibility, of course. Indeed, she was pleased that Ranma had come. Whatever else might be the case, it wasn't _him_ that she considered an enemy. "Well, come down from there, son-in-law," she said. "No need to spy on us from afar; you can meet the rest of the tribe face to face. After all... they're _your_ tribe as well."

Ranma's lip twisted at the reminder of Cologne's designs on him, but he complied, hopping off the roof and down to ground level. "Just... don't try anything funny, old ghoul," he muttered.

"You wound me, son-in-law," replied the old woman wryly. "No trust, after all we've been through together?"

"_Hell _no!"

Cologne chuckled. No, she didn't mind that Ranma was here. If nothing else, it would allow him to become familiar with the side which she fully intended him to join forces with, eventually.

And—as she had planned—it had also given her a gauge on how far she could trust Mousse in this matter.

* * *

His hands tucked deep within his voluminous sleeves, Mousse paced agitatedly back and forth in one of the Nekohanten's upper rooms, mumbling quietly to himself. He needed to get this exactly right, needed to express his decision in the best way possible to the object of his affection.

So many different ways to say it. He had gone back and forth, trying out countless approaches on the imaginary Shampoo that his mind had conjured up for him. Her reaction was different each time, but in no case was Mousse satisfied.

Angrily, he yanked off his glasses, stuffing them up his sleeves. In an instant, the world lost all clarity, becoming little more than a mass of shifting, unrecognizable shapes. But Mousse was determined not to let that faze him. He needed to look his best for this, and those thick lenses would hardly allow that.

He continued to pace, continued to try different variations, until at last he could wait no longer, and strode out of the room and down the stairs. He would just have to find Shampoo, and try his best. Perhaps her nearness would inspire him.

The hidden weapons master looked to and fro, straining his weak eyes to try and pick out his love's form as he walked through the restaurant. Then, at last, he managed to detect some movement, as one of the surrounding blurs—about the right size and shape, no less—came into view. The young man's heart leapt. This was it!

"Shampoo!" Mousse dropped to his knees before the Shampoo-blur. "My love, there is something of the utmost importance I must tell you. I reached a decision last night. When I first joined Saotome, it was only because your great-grandmother forced me to keep an eye on Beneda. I didn't want to help him, and I was planning to take the first opportunity I could to get rid of him in the process."

The Shampoo-blur raised one of her arms, as though she were scratching her head uncomfortably. Mousse pressed on. "Still, I must abandon that now. The danger of these enemies is too great, and Saotome is... in the right, this time. I must give him my support, and honestly so, until this crisis is over."

Mousse's voice grew in earnestness, as he reached the crux of what he was trying to say. "But please, Shampoo! Don't think because of this that my heart has wavered! I will never slack in my devotion toward you! Even if I must aid Saotome during this conflict, the instant it is over he will be my mortal foe once again! My goal remains steadfast—to crush him and win your love! Never doubt that, Shampoo!"

"Well gee, Mousse..." replied the Shampoo-blur dryly, in a voice that didn't really sound much like Shampoo at all. "That's real sweet of ya."

The hidden weapons master frowned, then reached into his sleeves and pulled out his glasses. Flicking them open, he slid them onto his face, causing his perception of the Shampoo-blur to immediately clear. "Ah. Saotome."

Ranma rolled his eyes exasperatedly, walking past Mousse and delivering a _thwack_ upside the head as he went by. "Well at least you didn't _hug_ me this time... idiot."

* * *

Beneda sat anxiously in the treatment room, watching Ryouga's sleeping face. Another session with the doctor's salve had come and gone, and now he was simply resting.

But although the lost boy was starting to respond to the treatment, fresh worries over Ranma's safety had sprung up to fill in any relief that Beneda might have felt. The pigtailed fighter had assured her before leaving that this would be no problem, just a simple bit of spying to see for himself what they might be facing from Shampoo's tribe. Beneda, however, was still uneasy.

She knew very little about this Cologne, aside from what Ranma and Ryouga had told her secondhand, combined with their brief encounter. But if there was one impression that all that had driven home to her, it was that the old woman was _dangerous_.

The youma turned, looking over to where Doctor Tofu was sitting, working on some papers. She hesitated, reluctant to disturb someone so powerful, but eventually she spoke up. "Doctor Tofu, sir... Do you really think that Ranma will be all right?"

Tofu glanced up. "Oh, I don't expect that he'll be in any real danger," he said reassuringly. "I've only met Cologne on a few occasions myself, but I doubt she would be so imprudent as to pick a direct fight with us, as long as the Dark Kingdom is still out there."

"Yes, I suppose you're right..." agreed Beneda. _Then again,_ she thought. _It doesn't mean I can relax. She might not attack Ranma, but someone like her probably has a lot more methods than just a "direct fight" for dealing with me..._

Those weren't enjoyable thoughts to mull over, though. And now that she had Tofu's attention, she decided to mention something that she had been thinking about off and on since she had first helped him treat Ryouga.

"Ummm... Doctor Tofu?" she said, feeling foolish for even asking this question. "I was just wondering... Those things you were showing me about medicine... Helping Ryouga get better... Is there... any way I can learn more of how to do things like that?"

The doctor regarded her for a moment, and Beneda was surprised at the _lack_ of surprise that he showed. Then he stood, walked over to a nearby bookshelf, selected a book from it and handed it to her.

"This isn't anything esoteric," he told her. "Just simple first aid. But it's the basics on which everything else is built. Read this, and it should be enough to give you a start. And if you have any questions about anything you read, don't hesitate to ask me."

"Thank you..." the youma said as she accepted the book, gazing long at its plain tan cover. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened it and began to read.

* * *

Sighing and drumming his fingers on one of the Nekohanten's tables, Ranma fought back the impatience that was tugging at him. He didn't like waiting games, didn't like worrying about situations where he couldn't _act_. But the Joketsuzoku would arrive when they would arrive, and there was nothing he could do to alter that one way or the other.

All he could do was indulge in fruitless pondering as to what their arrival might mean for him and his friends. How many would actually be coming? How strong would they be? With all their forces present, would they try to kill Beneda right away, or would they focus solely on the Dark Kingdom?

And for that matter, how much difference would they be able to make? He hadn't spent too much time in their village before the... unfortunate incident... but the one thing he did know from that experience was that Shampoo had won their village tournament. If the rest were weaker than her, then Ranma was worried about how well they would stand up against monsters like the ones he and Ryouga had faced.

Then again... _Cologne_ hadn't been a participant in that tournament. Who knew how many old crones like her they had up their sleeves?

His ruminations were cut short by an excited shout from Shampoo. "Great-grandmother! They here!" Rising to his feet, Ranma hurried to the restaurant's door, and looked out into the street. Immediately, his eyebrows shot up.

They were coming down the street, not in any specific formation, but moving with obvious coordination nonetheless. A large throng of women, all different ages and builds, armed to the teeth with all kinds of weapons. Swords, staves, bows, spears, maces, throwing knives, and even a few custom designs that Ranma had never seen before. An exact count was difficult, but he guessed that there had to be at least two hundred of them.

Ranma stepped back from the door as the female warriors began to file into the restaurant, quickly packing out the main dining area and overflowing into the kitchen area, pushing him back along with them. Eventually the flow stopped, but even as it did, all eyes turned back to the doorway, expectantly.

There was a moment of silence, and then Ranma heard a familiar _pok_, _pok_, _pok_ sound. It drew up to the door, and through it hopped a tiny figure perched atop a wooden cane.

She was, like Cologne, a shrunken old woman. Indeed, she seemed even more wrinkled, if such a thing were even possible. But Ranma's attention was arrested by the even more striking differences between the two. This woman no longer had a left arm, only a short stump barely extending from her shoulder. In addition, Ranma could tell from the way she moved that her left leg was heavily crippled, the knee joint damaged and immobile from some long-ago injury.

"Loofah!" Cologne's voice caused Ranma to glance over to where she was making her way to the other woman. "Welcome! I see you made good time."

The newcomer cackled. "There's a whole host of airport personnel who don't remember a thing about what they did yesterday, and even more passengers who must be irate that their plane never showed up. But given the urgency of the situation, I supposed that a little remote-control acupressure was justified."

Cologne gave a grim smile. "You were right. It's good to have you here."

"And what of me?" came a new voice from the direction of the doorway. "What words of welcome do you have for me, Cologne?"

At the sound of the new voice, a noticeable tension filled the room. Cologne slowly turned, facing the speaker. Ranma turned as well, and caught sight of who had provoked such a reaction. It was yet another old woman perched on a cane, but unlike Loofah, her face seemed to have slightly fewer wrinkles than Cologne's, rather than slightly more.

"Ah, Soap," Cologne remarked mildly. "Welcome to the Nekohanten. I see you have decided to take a rest from tearing down the traditions of our ancestors in order to lend us your aid... such as it is."

The latest crone gave a toothy grin. "Oh, indeed," she replied. "I am always willing to come and _rescue_ a fellow Joketsuzoku from her plight... even one as stuck in the past as you."

Cologne's eyes flashed, and her battle aura began to rise. "You speak highly of your own abilities for one who has never once been able to best me in combat."

Soap's battle aura began to rise as well. "Well, there is a first time for everything, is there not?"

Ranma took a few hurried steps backward, as the two ancient master matched wills. Their battle auras were blazing around them, choking the air, grinding against each other as they struggled for dominance. Some of the younger Joketsuzoku began to crumple, sagging against their fellows, their legs unable to keep themselves standing under the pressure.

The contest continued. Cologne's form seemed to loom higher than her mere stature would allow, her eyes blazing with suppressed power. Ranma's throat was dry, his heart hammering in his chest, as he tried to think of some way to avert an impending catastrophe. But the bloodlust between the two continued to build, reaching such proportions that it seemed an all-out battle between the two was inevitable...

...and then, just when it seemed that it had reached the breaking point, Cologne's terrifying expression relaxed into a wan little half-smile, her battle aura fading. "Not half bad..." she allowed. "You've certainly kept up your training, even in my absence."

Soap's battle aura also faded. "Of course I have," the old woman cackled merrily. "I swore that one day I'd knock you off that pedestal of yours, big sister... and I still mean to do it."

A snort was Cologne's reply. "You're still a hundred years too young to be thinking of that, runt. Maybe after I'm dead and gone you can content yourself with dancing on my grave."

"Hah," shot back Soap. "You say that as though you don't plan to outlive everyone here. I doubt even Death herself would have the nerve to come for one as stubborn and contrary as you."

Ranma's jaw was left hanging open at the sudden turn of events. Finally collecting himself, he glanced around until he saw where Mousse was standing in the crowd. The pigtailed martial artist quickly maneuvered his way over to the hidden weapons master, and spoke in an undertone. "Hey... is all this for real? I mean, is she actually the old ghoul's—"

"Auntie Soap!" Shampoo's exclamation interrupted Ranma's question, even as it answered it. The excited girl pushed her way through the crowd, finally kneeling down to greet the aged woman face to face.

"Shampoo!" Soap said. "Let me look at you, child. You're doing well, I trust? The old goat hasn't been working you too hard, has she?"

"Is no problem for Shampoo," the girl insisted. "Shampoo is strong, and have Ranma's love for support."

"Ah yes, the lucky young groom..." Soap turned, her eyes sweeping across the room, finally settling on Ranma. "That would be you, I take it?"

"Um... yeah... I guess..." Ranma shifted uncomfortably, not sure of quite what to say in a situation like this. "Nice to meet ya."

He was saved from having to say anything further, however, as the assembly turned as one back toward the doorway, all conversation turning to silence. Ranma turned as well, wondering if yet another old woman was going to hop through it.

What did come through wasn't quite what he had been expecting. Four Joketsuzoku warriors, wearing matching uniforms and with matching swords strapped across their backs walked through the door. Between them, they bore a richly ornamented palanquin, which they carried to the center of the room before lowering it to the ground.

The scene remained frozen like that for another few seconds. Then, very slowly, the palanquin's curtain was drawn aside, revealing the sole occupant.

It was, indeed, another old woman, but of a much different nature than the ones who had preceded her. Loofah, Soap and Cologne were all old, to be sure, but they retained a feeling of energy about them that made it believable that they could perform the astonishing feats that Ranma knew they were capable of. This woman, however... Ranma couldn't even begin to guess how old she was.

She had a cane in one hand... but unlike the other elders, in her case she obviously _did_ need it just to support herself. Her other arm held the palanquin curtain open, but it was so thin and frail that Ranma was almost afraid even that strain would prove too much. Only a few straggling strands of hair remained on her head, and her eyes were so dim and clouded that Ranma wondered how much vision she even had left.

As he watched, she stepped gingerly down to the floor, and began to hobble slowly toward them. All the Joketsuzoku dropped to their knees as she approached, leaving only Ranma uncomfortably upright. Cologne spoke from her kneeling position. "Welcome to Japan, Matriarch—and to our humble base of operations here."

"Thank you, Cologne," the Matriarch said, her voice warm and collected for all that it was weak and barely audible. "You have done us all honor with your incisive response to this crisis."

"There is much left to be done," responded Cologne, rising to her feet, followed soon after by the other Joketsuzoku. "And many recent developments that you should be aware of. The enemy has drastically stepped up their operations in this ward; their most recent foray was supported by one of Beryl's Generals in person."

A low murmur passed through the assembled warriors, but the Matriarch was unperturbed. "They are the foes we must defeat—sooner or later," she said simply. "Tell me, was his power as great as it was described?"

At that, a tiny, proud smile flitted across Cologne's face. "I cannot say, Matriarch," she answered, turning toward Ranma. "Since it was not I who beat him back. You would do better to ask this boy here."

"I see..." The Matriarch hobbled slowly over to stand in front of the pigtailed fighter, the crowd of Joketsuzoku parting to make way for her. Reaching him, she craned her neck up to look at his face. "May I ask to whom I am speaking? I would know the name of the warrior who has accomplished such a feat."

"Saotome Ranma, ma'am," was his uncomfortable response.

"Oh, of course," the Matriarch replied. "Shampoo's groom. Cologne has spoken _very_ highly of you, young man, and from her that is rare indeed. Tell me, what was your appraisal of the General's strength?"

Ranma opened his mouth to give a typically cocky response... but found that the words stuck in his throat. Maybe it was the seriousness of the situation, maybe it was the quiet focus with which the Matriarch was looking at him, but when he finally answered it was with brutal honesty. "...he ain't someone I'd want to fight again. He's really tough, really fast, and he has all kinds of different powers."

Loofah spoke up. "What powers did you observe?"

"Well, he can fly, make energy shields, shoot all kinds of energy blasts...and he can grab you and smash you around without even _needing_ to touch you. About the only way to beat that one is to keep him on the defensive, but even that's really nasty to manage what with all the ways he can move around. Oh, yeah, and he can flat-out teleport too."

"Formidable indeed..." the Matriarch said. Then a small smile crossed her face. "Nevertheless, there _are_ counters to such things. We are not altogether unformidable ourselves."

Ranma's gaze shifted back and forth, looking at each of the four ancient masters in turn. "Yeah..." he said at length. "I can believe that."

* * *

The day progressed onward, the Joketsuzoku contingent splitting off naturally into various groups as they milled around, a dozen different conversations going on at any given moment. Ranma couldn't pick out much, though, since in any conversation he wasn't directly a part of, the participants would switch back to Chinese.

Loofah had kept him busy for the first hour or so, pulling him away to grill him in more exacting detail on all his various confrontations with the Dark Kingdom—every ability, every tactic, everything he'd seen them do.

But after that, he'd just sort of... floated. He'd walked aimlessly through the room, from cluster of warrior women to cluster of warrior women, pondering whether he'd actually end up needing to take them on.

Shampoo had been conspicuously hanging on him for most of it; he hadn't quite had the heart to try and push her away in front of her entire tribe like this. Still, as soon as she'd gotten engrossed in a conversation with an old friend, he'd taken the opportunity to duck quietly away. The end result was that he was slouched at an out-of-the-way table in the corner of the room, watching the milling crowd with a vague sort of interest.

"Well, well, sonny. What are you doing sitting off here?"

Ranma turned, just in time to see Soap hop up onto the table, eyeing him speculatively. "I'd think a young man like you would be out there with his woman, enjoying himself."

"Err..." Ranma scratched the back of his head uncomfortably, unsure of how much he should actually tell Shampoo's great-great-aunt. "Well... It's... complicated, between us."

"Ah. I see." A small, sad smile flickered across Soap's face, so fleeting that Ranma almost thought he'd imagined it. "Well. One can never say how such things will turn out in the end, no? You're all still so young..."

_Sure, from your point of view..._ thought Ranma, though in a rare display of mouth-control he managed not to say it aloud. Instead, he asked a question that had been bothering him since the elder had first been introduced. "Hey... When you and Cologne were arguing back there, what was all that stuff about you 'tearing down traditions'?"

Soap laughed. "Oh, that. That's the same thing we've been fighting about for... how many years _has_ it been, now? At any rate, my sister and I simply have... different opinions... on how our laws should be applied."

"Different opinions? What do you mean?"

"She means..." Cologne said, as without warning she hopped up onto the table as well, on the side opposite Soap. "...that she would prefer to discard the teachings that have kept our tribe strong for untold generations for the sake of her sentimentality."

"My, _my_..." Soap shot back in mock-surprise, grinning cheekily as she did so. "It sounds as though _someone_ is still upset about the decision in the matter with young Lotion.."

Cologne's lip twisted, and she leveled a finger at Soap. "That decision _blatantly_ ignored any honest interpretation of the law, and you know it. If I'd been there to argue the matter in person, the Matriarch would never have gone along with you."

"The boy was scum, Cologne," responded Soap. "He already knew about the marriage law, and he specifically targeted Lotion because he knew he didn't have a chance against any of the more talented warriors."

"That's a risk every Joketsuzoku takes," was Cologne's impassive reply, although Ranma thought he detected a small wince buried deep in her eyes. "That's a risk you and I both took, just like her. It's a risk that _should_ be there, to push us to be better than anyone who might try to do that. You cannot follow the path of the warrior if you are not willing to risk everything."

Ranma's eyebrows went up a little, suddenly very interested in this conversation. "So this 'Lotion' chick..." he said, trying his best to sound casual. "You're saying she got her marriage thing... canceled?"

"Not canceled." Cologne shook her head. "Thankfully, our standards haven't slipped so far that this degenerate could accomplish _that_. Her argument was that the law didn't even apply in Lotion's case to begin with. Go on, Soap. Do you want to regale the boy with the reasoning you used, or should I?"

Soap spread her arms wide, affecting an expression of innocence. "I simply pointed out that she wasn't beaten in a true duel. The laws don't apply in larger fights; a Joketsuzoku who went down in a battle between tribes wasn't required to marry the last person to strike her. It _must_ be one-on-one for the laws to come into effect."

"Makes sense," said Ranma. "So... what? The jerk brought helpers with him to beat up the girl?"

Cologne snorted. "Hardly. _That_ would have been a reasonable case. No, he came alone. He was secretly following a hunting party that Lotion was in and when he saw his chance, he shouted a challenge and attacked her. None of the other Joketsuzoku interfered in her fight... but he did shove one of them out of his way in order to get at Lotion faster. _After_ he had shouted his challenge."

"There! You see?" said Soap, smiling. "A _clear_ attack on one of the other Joketsuzoku after the fight had started. It wasn't a one-on-one, it was a _two_-on-one."

"Wow..." said Ranma, disbelievingly. "That sounds like something my _pop_ would come up with. And you actually managed to make that stick?"

"Oh yes," grumbled Cologne. "My sister is quite silver-tongued, when she wishes to be."

"Man..." Ranma shook his head. "But still, if it got that girl off the hook, then it's a good thing, right?"

"It was an affront to everything the Joketsuzoku stand for," insisted Cologne, crossing her arms. "It was an excuse, designed to allow something our ancestors would never have permitted. It was a deliberate twisting of our sacred laws."

Soap smiled in a very self-satisfied way. "I prefer to think of it as a creative interpretation."

Ranma sighed. Well, so much for finding an easy answer to his Shampoo problem; he certainly hadn't had the good fortune to bump into any other Joketsuzoku on the way to the challenge log. Not that Soap would even be likely to try for an exception in his case.

Resignedly, he got to his feet. "Well, I gotta... uh... go see what Shampoo is up to," he said, making his excuse to leave the table. His interest in the conversation had waned, now that it was clear that it had no real applicability to his own situation.

And, more to the point, listening to the two venerable masters bicker like... well, _siblings_... was starting to seriously creep him out.

* * *

"So what is your read of the situation?"

At the sound of the quiet voice, Loofah turned away from her observation of the Joketsuzoku warriors and met the Matriarch's gaze. "From what Shan Pu's husband has told me?" she said. "It doesn't look good."

"What chance do you think we have?"

"That depends on how much time there is before our foes feel confident enough to make a full-scale move," was Loofah's answer. "We can't face them head-on, not their _full_ army. Their numbers are far too great, and our strength is... not what it once was."

In silence, the two women looked out across the throng of warriors milling through the room. They seemed so painfully young to those ancient eyes. Young and inexperienced, born into the modern era of relative peace between the surviving tribes. An era so unlike the hellish crucible that had forged their elders.

"They will learn," the Matriarch said, sadly. "They will learn what true war is. As we did."

"I only hope that they can learn fast enough," was Loofah's response. "Though, on the bright side, it seems that Ke Lun already has a plan for our first move that will allow us a tactical edge."

The Matriarch's eyebrows went up. "Really? What sort of plan?"

"Well, it's bizarre, no question. You see, she's going to use something her son-in-law is planning..."

* * *

Ranma had returned to idly wandering between tables when—out of nowhere—Shampoo grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off to a secluded corner.

"Hey! Wha—!" The pigtailed fighter's protests were cut off as Shampoo put a finger to her lips, hushing him. After a moment, he continued in a quieter voice. "What's the big idea?"

"Now is perfect chance!" was Shampoo's reply. "Ranma is needing steal magic thing from great-grandmother collection, yes? We take now, while she busy talking with Auntie Soap."

"Oh. Good idea." Ranma glanced around, making sure no one was particularly watching them. "So... where does she keep the stuff?"

"Upstairs. Come!" With the young Joketsuzoku in the lead, the two of them hurried up the stairs to the second floor of the Nekohanten. "Ranma remember promise!" the girl said as they went up. "Must take Shampoo on date for helping like this!"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember," Ranma said, trying not to think of how his uncute fiancée would take _that_ news. Ideally it would stay a secret and she would never even know... but somehow it never quite worked out that way, and Ranma wasn't really expecting this time to be any different.

Shampoo immediately went over to the door to her great-grandmother's room, easing it quietly open and slipping through. Ranma followed right behind her, carefully shutting the door as he went through.

By the time he reached where Shampoo was now kneeling, she had spread out a plethora of objects and trinkets all across the floor, all of which Ranma assumed were magical in some way. "Ranma see anything he like?" asked the girl, looking up at him.

"Huh. They're mostly kinda small..." Ranma said thoughtfully. "We need something pretty noticeable. Hey, what about that one?" He pointed at a good-sized bowl, laying off to one side, colored white, with images of an ox and a snake drawn into the side. "That might do the trick..."

Shampoo hesitated. "Ranma... sure it have to be that one?"

"I don't see anything else that would work how we want," was Ranma's answer. "Why? Is there a problem with that one?"

"That very important Joketsuzoku treasure, passed down for many generation!" replied Shampoo heatedly. "Legendary Bowl of Ox and Snake, very precious!"

Ranma blanched. And considering what they would need to _do_ with whatever magic item they used to pull this off... _Crap!_ he thought. _Why can't these things ever be simple?_

Still, priceless historical treasure or not, it was their necks on the line here, and he didn't know where else he could find a magic artifact that would work so well. The only problem was Shampoo. A single shout from her could spoil the whole thing, bringing an army of Joketsuzoku down on his head... and the thought of what all those old masters would do to him if they caught him trying to steal something as valuable as this fairly curdled his blood.

"Er... it can't be _that_ important... can it?" Ranma asked hopefully.

"Is one of most important thing there is in tribe!" asserted Shampoo, even more forcefully this time, determination blazing in her eyes. "Is _no way_ Shampoo letting Ranma destroy precious and not-replaceable part of Joketsuzoku history and culture for any less than _six_ dates!"

Ranma almost collapsed in relief. Then—after reflexively checking behind himself to make sure there were no mallet-happy tomboys there—he leaned in a spoke in an undertone. "How about three dates? Three dates ought to be plenty, right?"

The girl snorted. "Ranma think Shampoo stupid? Out of goodness of heart, and love for Airen, Shampoo go down to five dates. Final offer."

"Aw, come on, Shampoo," Ranma wheedled. "Cut me some slack here. Four and a half."

Shampoo frowned, eyeing Ranma suspiciously. "...what is 'half-date'?"

The pigtailed fighter shrugged, offering her an enigmatic smile. "If you want to find out, I guess you gotta go on one."

The silence between them stretched on for second after second, until at last Shampoo nodded. "Four and half. Is deal."

Ranma let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks!" he said, snatching up the bowl before Shampoo could change her mind. "I'll run this back to the clinic right away!"

He then proceeded to stuff the magical item under his shirt, and made for one of the room's windows. Opening it, he jumped through, bypassing the danger-laden lower floor entirely, landing on the street outside the restaurant.

_Perfect,_ he thought, as he raced back with his purloined prize. _Everything's coming together._

_Now I just need to figure out what a "half-date" is..._

* * *

Cologne was still locked in verbal combat with her sister when she noticed Shampoo coming back down the stairs—without any sign of Ranma, who had accompanied her up. Immediately, her great-granddaughter came over to their table.

"Ranma has left to go back to Doctor Tofu's clinic," she informed the two old masters, her broken speech vanishing as she switched to her native tongue. "I think that he saw everything he wanted to see of us."

"Good, good," replied Cologne. "Did you make sure that he got the magic item that he needs for that plan of his?"

A smile spread across Shampoo's face. "Oh yes, I made very sure of that. He picked the one you expected him to pick, given that selection."

Soap cocked an eyebrow. "What's all this about?"

"Just something that my son-in-law is doing, which we will also use to our own benefit," explained Cologne. "He needed a magical item to make it work, but he doesn't know we know what he's planning, and he probably wouldn't trust a gift from us in any case. So he 'stole' it instead. Do you remember that bowl I had with the Ox and the Snake on it?"

"_That_ worthless old thing?" asked Soap, both her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I thought you'd gotten rid of that decades ago!"

Cologne shook her head. "No, it had just a bit too much sentimental value. Fortunately so, as it turns out, since it's just what son-in-law needs to pull off his scheme."

"Ranma certainly seemed happy with it," put in Shampoo. Then she addressed Cologne directly. "Great-grandmother, now that Ranma is gone, may I leave for a little bit too? There are a few things I want to pick up from the costume shop."

"Costume shop?" asked Cologne. "Is this part of son-in-law's plan as well?"

"Not... exactly," was Shampoo's response, a coy little grin playing around her features. "It's just a little idea I had, as a safeguard in case something goes wrong."

Cologne shrugged. "Very well. If you think it will help." She watched Shampoo turn to leave, then after a few moments called out after her retreating figure. "And make sure you use this opportunity to spend some more time winning son-in-law over! Don't forget, you have an absolute duty to uphold the laws of our people!"

"I know!" was the response Shampoo tossed cheerfully back.

In seconds she had vanished out the door. Cologne turned back to Soap... only to see that the other woman was watching her with a concerned expression. "What?" Cologne asked, a little defensively.

"Nothing," said Soap. "I was just wondering whether that last bit about the laws was really because you felt Shampoo needed to be reminded of it... or because you felt _you_ needed to be reminded of it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cologne said curtly. "At any rate, I should speak with the Matriarch. There is still much that needs to be prepared for the coming conflict."

But Soap was not dissuaded so easily. "What's wrong, Cologne?" she asked. "We've always argued about the place our laws have in the modern world, but you're not usually this... pedantic... about the issue. Is there something that's troubling you?"

Cologne's face darkened slightly. The question brought other worries to mind, worries that she had largely been ignoring. She had told herself that the Dark Kingdom was the more pressing matter... but in truth, she did not want to dwell unnecessarily on what might result from the other, more personal problem that obedience to her laws would force on her in this situation.

"I must speak with the Matriarch," Cologne repeated once more, hopping away from the table before her sister could get another word in. "There is much that remains to be done... and one way or another, the times ahead will be dark indeed."

* * *

Marceat stood on the high catwalk, her scaly hands resting on the railing, her snake-like eyes looking down with satisfaction at the teeming mass of her fellow youma that covered the warehouse floor beneath her like a living carpet. They had packed this building to its utmost capacity... and this was only the _first_ warehouse. Her master Jadeite was taking no half-measures.

A shiver of electric anxiousness ran through her at the thought of the power that was contained here, power that Jadeite had charged her with overseeing. And—knowing what the penalty for failure on such a grand scale would be—she was determined not to do so.

She had thrown everything she had into the undertaking. She had studied the dossier of every youma chosen for this offensive, had grouped them into units based on the compatibility of their powers, had even come up with various strategies that the different teams could employ, depending on what manner of opposition they faced. Even menial tasks—such as the spells that shielded these buildings from any prying eyes or listening ears—she had overseen herself.

They were ready. In her excitement, Marceat's fingers dug deep into the metal railing she was holding onto, her grip twisting it. She had finally, _finally_ been assigned a great task... and she had carried it out to perfection.

"My sisters!" she called down to the youma below. As one, they craned their necks to look up at her as she continued to speak. "Are you ready to crush the enemies of the Dark Kingdom?"

The resulting roar, exploding from the throats of hundreds upon hundreds of youma, felt almost as though it might deafen Marceat. She smiled, looking out over the sea of upraised fists.

She could not wait for this force to be unleashed on the poor fools it had been created to destroy.

* * *

The morning passed into afternoon, and the afternoon into evening, the warriors of the Joketsuzoku coming and going on the various tasks assigned to them by the elders. Eventually night fell, and the small army began to search for places to bunk down. Many packed themselves into the Nekohanten, while others headed out to camp in various parks scattered across the ward.

The four elders were not preparing for sleep, however. They were preparing for something much rarer and graver.

Cologne, Soap, Loofah and the Matriarch all sat at a small table in a room of the Nekohanten. They were arranged in the traditional order of the Council. Loofah, holding the seat of the Warrior, sat at the Matriarch's right, while Soap, holding the seat of the Healer, sat at her left. Cologne, holding the seat of the Sage, sat facing the leader of their tribe.

All doors to the room had been locked, all windows sealed and covered. No one save those inside would see what went on here. The resulting darkness was not helping Cologne's state of mind any, however, providing just that much more fertile ground for her own personal doubts to fester in.

A large black box, heavy and ornate, lay in the center of the table. With silent gravity, the Matriarch took hold of a cord that she wore around her neck like a necklace, pulling it over her head. The action pulled up the part that had been hidden beneath her garment, revealing an ancient key tied to the cord, passed down in their tribe through the generations.

Taking the key in her hands, the Matriarch inserted it into a matching lock on the box and turned it. There was a loud click, and then Cologne helped the Matriarch lift the top of the box and set it aside, revealing what was underneath.

It was a small, disc-shaped object, clean and metallic. Its smooth surface was unblemished, save for a small inset panel in the center, and a large square button on the side facing the Matriarch.

All four women bowed their heads. "We have come seeking wisdom that we do not possess," the Matriarch recited. "We have come for knowledge and guidance. Please listen to our plea." Then she reached forward and gave the button a gentle press.

The button flickered to life at her touch, beginning to glow bluish-white. At the same time, the center panel slid open, revealing a small lens beneath it. A glow began to build there too, brighter and brighter, pulsing with the power of an ancient technology that far outstripped anything of this era. Then, at last, an image appeared in the air above the artifact, that of a woman's head and upper body.

Her face was bloody; she had taken an impact of some kind to the left side of her head, mangling it. She was bent over, breathing hard, and Cologne suspected that with those kind of injuries she had been only keeping herself going by sheer willpower.

"I..." the image doubled over in a coughing fit—wet coughs that told Cologne's experienced ears that she was coughing up blood. "I don't have much time. I don't have nearly enough time to say everything I want to tell you, everything I _need_ to tell you. The city is... falling apart. Almost everyone else here is dead. Beryl is defeated, but the damage is already far too severe. I don't even think we'll have life support much longer."

Then, despite the horrible pain she had to have been in, the woman's face took on a smile of pure joy. "But somehow, you survived," she said. "My dear, dear little ones. I thought you'd been killed, but..." Another coughing fit cut off the sentence, and it was some time before the recording spoke again.

"I managed to salvage one of the transport pods, and I repaired as much of the damage as I could. I'm sending you both to the Earth. It's the only way. I don't know what you'll find down there, but it's... the only thing I can do for you now. I... I just wish..."

Her voice trailed off, and then she shook her head. "But I can't. I'm so sorry that I can't be there for you. The most I can give you is this A.I. matrix. It has access to all my memories, all my knowledge. I pray that it will allow me to guide you, even after I am no longer by your side. Ask of it any questions you have, and it will answer as best as it can."

There was a brief, reverential pause, and then the Matriarch spoke. "Honored Altine," she said, already knowing the woman's name from previous questions, passed down through the generations. "We would ask of the ones who brought this catastrophe upon you. We would ask of the Dark Kingdom, of Beryl, and of Metallia. By what means were they defeated in the end?"

That question was Cologne's. Proper decorum dictated that only the current Matriarch address the artifact directly. The other elders had decided beforehand what questions needed to be asked, and given the aggregate to their leader. In this case it was a question that they already knew the basic answer to, but Cologne had felt it worthwhile to see if any further details could be gleaned.

The hologram of Altine was not long in responding. "Against something of that power, it could only have been the Queen," the woman's image said. "She must have intervened using the Ginzuisho. One moment Metallia was blanketing the sky, and the next..." She shook her head. "It looked like a spell of sealing, but the power and scale were... beyond all imagining."

"But could such a seal weaken?" asked the Matriarch gravely. "Could the demoness escape once more, even from that?"

"I do not know," the hologram answered. "The Queen's magic was powerful... but even the strongest of prison bars may be worn down with enough time, and Metallia was an entity of incredible power as well."

The Matriarch nodded. "And if that happened... is there anyone else who could face that evil? Any other force that could be brought to bear against her?" That question was Soap's, asked on the off-chance that there were still some allies of the Moon Kingdom out there that could be contacted, or some ancient weapon that could somehow be utilized in their battle plan.

But no such luck. "I know of none," Altine's image said. "The Queen could not have survived such an act. If the Princess were still alive, it might also be possible for her to harness the power of the Ginzuisho and confront Metallia, but the palace was the main focus of the enemy's attack, and I was unable to contact anyone there afterward."

"What was the composition of Metallia's forces when they attacked you?" asked the Matriarch, giving voice to one of Loofah's questions this time. "And what tactics were employed?"

"I could not see much of the battle from my position," was the A.I.'s response. "Beryl and her Generals led the push, along with human forces from Earth. Metallia's monsters were attacking as well, led by the Seven Great Youma. Metallia herself only appeared later in the battle, after they had broken through our lines and taken down the city's defensive wards." The mention of the youma caused Cologne to frown, reminding her once again of the other problem she faced.

She listened as the Matriarch continued to ask questions, but only with half an ear. _What is the right course of action here?_ she asked herself. _The safest is unquestionably to kill the youma—it's an evil creature, only a source of potential treachery. That is why such laws exist._

And yet she still found herself ill at ease. Her doubts would not go away... nor would the knowledge of what following the laws could do to the bonds between herself, her son-in-law, and her great-granddaughter.

At length, the room became silent, and Cologne realized with a start that the Matriarch had asked the final question that they had previously agreed on. The consultation was almost over.

Cologne bowed her head, but inside her uncertainty was still as fierce as ever. At length, the hologram spoke up. "Was there anything else you wished to ask?"

There _was_ one more thing, but Cologne had not suggested it to the others. It was an absurd question, one that would have made her ashamed to even admit entertaining. And yet it gnawed at her.

"There is nothing more we wish to ask." The Matriarch was now finishing up the ceremony. "Thank you for sharing your wisdom with us, honored Altine."

The hologram closed its eyes. "Then—"

"Wait!" All eyes turned to look at Cologne, all eyebrows shooting up in shock at the breach of protocol. Cologne cursed herself, but the die was cast, and she could only move forward. "I have one more question. Have you ever heard of a youma abandoning the service of the Dark Kingdom?"

In contrast with the faces of the elders, the hologram's bloody features showed no sign that it considered this an odd request. "I have never heard of such a thing happening, nor do I know whether or not such a thing is possible," it said. Then it paused. "However... the Queen always strove in all things to redeem evil when possible, rather than destroy it. I think she would have _hoped_ such a thing could happen."

Cologne grimaced a little. As expected, there was no definite answer there, not for which course of action she should take. She bowed her head. "Thank you, honored Altine. I have no more questions to ask."

"Then I pray that my knowledge serves you well," the hologram said, slipping out of the question-and-answer mode, and back into the actual recording of the now-millennia-dead woman. "And... I am so sorry that I could not give you more, except this one chance at life. I hope that you become fine, strong women in this new world that you are going to. And... whatever happens..."

Altine's voice broke again. This time, however, Cologne knew that it was not due to her injuries, nor were the tears running down her face caused by any physical pain. "Whatever happens... my precious daughters... I want you to know that I love you both. I love you so very, very much. _Never_ forget that."

With that, the image reached down, and appeared to manipulate some control that could not be seen in the recording. The hologram flickered briefly, then vanished, and with a soft whir the small panel slid back to cover the lens, returning the artifact to its inert state.

Silence fell. Cologne looked back and forth at the other elders, their solemn faces mirroring her own, as they each reflected on the desperate act of devotion that had brought this small piece of the Silver Millennium to Earth—to them.

She wondered, not for the first time, how those early Joketsuzoku had felt, when they found the ancient device for the first time. No doubt they had considered the incredible technology magic, perhaps a gift from the gods, and had learned much from it. But Cologne did not consider that sufficient explanation for the importance it had taken on for her people. More powerful even than the knowledge it contained was what it recorded: a sacred bond from mother to daughter, one that those Joketsuzoku had felt compelled to take up, to keep alive.

There was, Cologne knew, even a legend among her tribe that they were the _actual_ descendants of Altine. It was a testament to the effect that the story had on them, that they would want to believe themselves a part of it so badly.

But it flew in the face of the truth. When those ancient Joketsuzoku had first found the artifact, it was not the only thing they had taken from the shattered wreckage of the strange craft embedded deep in a mountain. Even today, back in China, in their most sacred shrine, lay the two small skeletons that had been found there as well.

_For their sake,_ Cologne thought, her hands tightening on her cane. _For their sake, we cannot allow this to happen again._ Metallia could attack however she pleased. But thanks to this warning, thanks to this expression of a mother's love carried across the ages, she would find the Joketsuzoku waiting to oppose her when she did.

* * *

Once the consultation had concluded—and she had apologized to the Matriarch for her rudeness—Cologne broke away from the other elders, wandering off to be alone with her thoughts. Soon she had exited the Nekohanten entirely, standing out in the silent, deserted street.

_Isn't wisdom supposed to come with age?_ she asked herself bitterly. _Profound, inscrutable wisdom? That was how my elders always seemed to me. But I do not feel wise right now. I only feel old._

"Ke Lun."

Suppressing a sigh, Cologne turned to find Soap standing there. "I suppose I should have expected this."

"Well it isn't everyday that you break Council decorum in such a dramatic way," observed her sister. "Though considering the situation that your son-in-law has put you in, it's certainly understandable."

"So Shampoo told you about that, did she?" Cologne shook her head. The question she'd asked of the artifact hadn't been one she could have defended in advance, but it had been a question she'd needed to ask all the same. She'd wanted to know to what extent Ranma really was deluding himself with his idealistic aims, but instead all she had been given was more ambiguity.

"I admit..." Cologne said at length. "I had hoped that the... situation... would resolve itself better than this. I expected that the youma's true nature and intentions would surface, and that the boy would recognize what had to be done."

"Perhaps..." Her sister was looking intently at her, with eyes that knew her far too well. "But I think you knew from the beginning that it might not happen that way." She paused, and then continued. "Is that why you also asked us to bring—"

_"Enough!"_ Cologne snapped. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now. "That request was... simply a precaution of mine, nothing more. I have no real intention of using it."

"I see..." Soap's expression was one of studied neutrality. "Well, whatever your plans, big sister... I believe that you'll do the right thing in the end."

Cologne let out a harsh laugh, turning away. "You place far too much faith in the goodness of other people, little sister," she said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "You always have. Especially me."

"Maybe so..." allowed Soap, quietly. "But I still believe it nonetheless."

* * *

Meanwhile, far away from the Nekohanten, a cloaked figure launched itself silently through the night air, landing in a crouch atop one of the warehouses where Jadeite's forces were assembling.

The figure placed its hand gently on the rooftop, and bowed its head in concentration. There was silence for a few moments. Then it let out a tiny chuckle, its voice revealing it as a man.

"Ahhh, at last..." he said. "So _this_ is what our dear comrade Jadeite has been up to. Interesting. I believe this bears further watching..."

He then rose to his feet, and vanished without a trace in a flurry of pink sakura petals.


	17. Dark Lords

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** A very big thank you goes out to **Pusakuronu**, who has drawn up a sweet piece of fanart for this fic! You can check it out in my profile (though I suggest waiting until _after_ reading this chapter to do so—since it's a drawing of a scene from this very chapter, and thus gives a bit away of what's to come).

And now, without further ado...

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Dark Lords

The pale light of morning filtered through the windows of Doctor Tofu's clinic, into the room where Ranma's slumbering form lay sprawled out next to his father's. After a while the boy began to groggily pry his eyes open, and eventually he pulled himself up to a sitting position.

He glanced around the room Tofu had given them, the fog of sleep slowly dissipating from his thoughts as his mind re-acclimated itself to the waking world. The events of the past few days pieced themselves back together in his memory, leading up to yesterday, when the Joketsuzoku had arrived. Days filled with running, hiding, keeping one step ahead of the searching youma and Senshi, while at the same time helping with the preparations needed to carry out the plan.

One by one, he worked his way through the list of what they had accomplished so far, and where they were in the scheme of things. As he checked off item after item, the full realization of how far along they were coalesced for him.

Today was the day.

The preparations were mostly complete, and they couldn't afford to hold off any longer. This being Sunday, it would be their last chance for a while to use Furinkan so easily, and he didn't really want to try and last another week keeping Beneda out of the Dark Kingdom's way. It would have to work.

An eager little chuckle escaped his lips. Finally. After all the waiting and maneuvering and planning, after all this time getting kicked around by ancient powers beyond their ken, it was finally time for _them_ to take the initiative. He would get to see his brilliant plan in action, and it would get all of them out of this fix.

Today was the day.

* * *

"Well, in a situation like that, I guess I'd have to..." Beneda paused in thought. "...apply a tourniquet first? And then splint the arm to keep it from moving?"

Doctor Tofu nodded approvingly. "Yes, very good. Tourniquets are generally a last resort, but with trauma of that severity there wouldn't be much other choice. The first priority in that situation would be to stop the blood loss."

"I see..." Beneda said. Then she frowned. "But... is blood loss really so dangerous for humans? When Ryouga first brought me to the Tendo's home, he was bleeding all over from the fight we'd been in, but it didn't seem like it was slowing him down that much. And he seemed just fine the next day..."

The doctor gave a small wince. "Yes, well... Ranma and his associates are not really the most... _representative_... examples of human durability and healing."

Beneda nodded. She certainly knew that the boys' healing was impressive by youma standards, and that seemed to be the case by human standards as well. Ryouga, aided by Tofu's treatment, had shown amazing progress in his condition over the past few days. Yesterday, the doctor had even allowed him out of bed, and the lost boy had begun to take supervised walks around the clinic with the aid of a cane. Ranma, for his part, no longer showed any signs of ever having been injured in the first place.

Then another question from Tofu pulled her attention back to the matter at hand. "Now, what would you have done if there had only been the smaller of the two wounds, with no arterial damage?"

The youma searched back through her memories, and was soon able to work out the answer from what she'd studied. "Well, a tourniquet would definitely be overkill in that situation. And I wouldn't try to remove the shrapnel at that point. I'd just clean the affected area as best I could, then dress and bandage around the foreign object. I'd keep steady pressure on the wound, and... keep it elevated above the heart."

"Exactly. You're picking this up very well." Beneda felt a warm feeling run through her at the doctor's praise. Their impromptu lessons had been going on for several days now, and she was growing more and more engrossed by this new way of applying herself. Even in the youma army she had always been a below-average fighter, to say nothing of her present company. But the things Tofu was teaching her were fascinating... and according to him, she actually had a degree of talent for it!

It was important work, a way she could be helpful without the stomach-churning terror that came with charging into a fight against far more dangerous foes. It was a challenge, but one that she honestly felt that she could accomplish. It was exciting, outside her previous experience, and an unexpected link into the world of her newfound friends.

It felt... good. It felt _very_ good.

A crash, and the sound of heavy footfalls moving up and down the hallway upstairs snapped her out of her musings. Tofu glanced up as well, then sighed heavily. "Perhaps we should cut this lesson short," he suggested. "It seems that our patient is up and about."

* * *

Ranma danced back and forth on the outer edges of Ryouga's reach, daring his rival to attack him. The lost boy quickly obliged, and Ranma hopped back a little more to avoid a kick aimed at his head, then twisted around a series of punches as Ryouga chased down the hallway after him.

_Not bad..._ the pigtailed fighter thought, as he sidestepped one of the punches and used the opening to slip a light kick into Ryouga's stomach. _He's nowhere near a hundred percent yet, but he's healed way more than I thought._

The lost boy broke off at an angle, the two opponents circling each other rapidly, guards raised. Then Ryouga lunged again, only to have Ranma redirect the punch and send him stumbling past, with a short backfist to the head to speed him on his way.

Ryouga spun back around once more, fangs bared. He was already breathing hard, sweat trickling down his face, and he was clearly suffering a great deal of pain from his back whenever he moved. _Yeah, definitely not a hundred percent,_ Ranma thought. _Still, if everything goes according to plan, he shouldn't have to do much actual fighting anyway._

"What are you _doing?_" came the voice of a panicked Beneda, as she rushed up the stairs and hurried out into the hallway. "Ryouga, you shouldn't be fighting—you just barely got out of bed yesterday!"

Ranma waved his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it. We weren't doing anything _really_ serious. Just a little warm-up sparring before the main event this afternoon."

"Well, I don't think he should be going with you this afternoon either!" was the youma's heated retort. "He's in no shape for another battle like that last one!"

At that, Ryouga spoke up. "Don't worry, Beneda. I'll be fine. This is just... something I have to see through to the end."

"And I'll be looking out for him too," chimed in Ranma. "Trust us, we know what we're doing."

Beneda didn't look convinced, but it was obvious that there would be no budging Ryouga on the matter. At length, she sighed. "Okay," she told them reluctantly. "Just... be careful, all right?"

"Oh, sure! We're _always_ careful," Ranma assured her. The youma met that statement with a doubting look, but ultimately nodded and headed back downstairs, willing to leave the two martial artists to their fight.

The boys watched her go, and then Ranma glanced over at his rival. "So... you ready to make all those magic types look like idiots?"

The lost boy let out a half-chuckle. "Well, it'll definitely be interesting, however it goes. Yes, I'm ready."

"Great!" was Ranma's reply, his spirits high at the thought of what they were going to pull off. "I tell ya, P-chan, when we get through with this plan, they won't even know what hit 'em!" He capped his exuberant exclamation by giving Ryouga a friendly slap on the back.

Ryouga's eyes crossed, and he let out a strangled gurgle as he crumpled to the ground in a quivering ball of pain. Ranma winced. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that, man."

"_...damn_... you... Ranma..."

* * *

Hino Rei knelt before the sacred fire of the Hikawa Shrine. The flickering interplay of light and shadow from the flames danced across her face as she brooded, trying to find the peace of mind that had eluded her for days now.

Fire. She had always felt inexplicably drawn to it, even as a young child. It fascinated her; a source of light, of beauty, of power and of purification.

And of destruction as well. She closed her eyes, replaying in her mind the most recent time she had used her Fire Soul. The result... hadn't been like any of the times she'd used it up until now, the youma vanishing cleanly into dust. The opponent had survived, but with the kind of horrible injuries that bore testament to the darker, uglier side of fire.

Worse was how he had received the injuries, that desperate act of sacrifice. Rei couldn't stop thinking about it. Even the possibility that she had somehow misused her fire ate away at her—more than she would ever let show to any of the others.

Which was why it was so frustrating that their investigation had come up so utterly empty. The four of them had visited Nerima as much as possible over the past couple days without arousing the suspicions of their parents—or grandparent, in Rei's case—and they were planning to go again later today. But so far it had all been fruitless. They had tracked down no solid leads on these new foes, only a mass of conflicting rumors. Cologne had been their most solid lead so far... and all she had to offer were ominous warnings about an evil plot coming to fruition very soon.

All of that had led her back here, to fire once again, the source of her unease. Fire readings were, of course, a traditional ceremony, but only she had demonstrated the ability to manifest images that were actually visible to the naked eye. It was a skill whose roots had become much clearer once the ultimate source of her kinship with fire had been revealed not too long ago.

But now even _that_ ability was failing her. She had tried to do many such readings to learn the truth of what was going on... but the result was always the same.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Rei turned her concentration toward the flames, preparing herself for another attempt, focusing on the question that she so desperately needed an answer to.

_What is the true goal of these new opponents?_

* * *

The Fire, its intent formed and guided by Rei's request, attuned itself along the mysterious pathways and connections that ran through the thoughts and intentions of souls. It reached out. It sought. It inquired. And soon the answer that its mistress sought came reverberating back to it.

**What is your true goal?**

_I have to protect Akane and Beneda, and everyone else... and I can't let Ranma show me up doing it!_

_ I must help Saotome just enough so that the Sailor Senshi take him down with the power of their glorious magic... and he and that evil youma get what's coming to them! Then surely Akane will notice me!_

_ I've got to be there for Ranchan, however he needs me, for as long as this mess lasts. And then... maybe he'll realize that I'm the one who loves him the most!_

_ My ultimate task is to destroy that damned Saotome and to win Shampoo's heart! I need to deal with this Dark Kingdom nonsense as quickly as possible so I can get back to my real objective!_

_ Shampoo show Airen many times why Shampoo best choice. Why Airen not see? Where Shampoo lack? Must... try harder. Must make Airen understand!_

_ Ranma's little plan doesn't concern me much at all; these sort of things always work out one way or another. But if I play my cards right, I can use what he's doing to rake in some serious money!_

_ I have to help with the plan! I have to prove I'm not useless! He's wrong about me. He's wrong! Even if I'm not as good as he is... I'm more than just a klutzy tomboy!_

_ The boy's plan is all right. Might even work. Still, the important thing is getting my own skin out of this in one piece. And his too, if I can manage it._

_ Ranma may very well keep the Dark Kingdom from killing Beneda, but she will also need a place... a life... a purpose in this new world even after the threat is gone. I hope my lessons can help her find it... but in the end it is something she must discover for herself._

_ Oh, my dear sweet wife, what a mess we're in now. I need to keep our daughters safe—above all else! But... I'm so afraid, and I don't really believe I have the strength to do it..._

_ I'm gonna make complete fools out of the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi! And then, once we get some breathing room, I'm gonna figure out a way to stop that "Beryl" lady for good! Those jerks are gonna regret the day they decided to mess with Saotome Ranma!_

_ Oh my! I have to get lunch ready!_

The Fire listened. The Fire absorbed. And then—just as Rei had asked it—the Fire attempted to show an image that conveyed "the true goal" of the assembled Neriman group.

It really did try its best.

* * *

Rei stared flatly at the sacred fire, at the image that hung there once again, taunting her. It showed that "Ranma" fellow, which was only to be expected. He was standing atop the unconscious body of a woman with long red hair. The shrine maiden didn't consciously recognize her, but felt a strange chill of familiarity all the same.

Somewhat less expected was that Ranma was _dead_ as he stood atop her, from what looked to be a combination of damage from a nasty explosion, and a dozen swords, spears, and other assorted weapons run through him at various angles like some macabre pincushion.

The weapons impaling him also served another purpose—they propped him up in a standing position before the altar he was facing, and the priest who stood behind that. On either side of his corpse was a girl clinging to one of his arms, dressed in a white bridal outfit. One of the girls was Shampoo from the Nekohanten, while the other was a long-haired girl Rei didn't recognize.

There was a third girl as well, but this one was dressed in a karate gi. She was standing on top of the altar, vigorously demonstrating what appeared to be a martial arts kata to the deceased Ranma.

Sitting in the pews were two more girls, watching the "wedding." One was humming cheerfully, preparing a large pile of bento lunches as she watched, while the other could barely be seen as she was bathing in cascading showers of glittering gold coins. Behind them sat an older man with long hair, clinging to each by turns and bawling his eyes out.

On the opposite side of the aisle from those three stood the youma they had first encountered. Ranma's partner, the other one they had fought, stood in front of her, rocks and arrows from some unknown source ricocheting harmlessly off his chest. Behind him, the man who had paralyzed her in the fight was... dressing the youma in a nurse outfit.

And finally, the _entire scene_ was taking place on the hunched-over back of a balding, middle-aged man, who seemed to be running for his life.

Rei grimaced, rubbing the bridge of her nose. What did it _mean_? What sort of objective could such a bizarre image portend? She tried once again to interpret the various symbols the fire was showing her. _A marriage ceremony... Could it symbolize joining? Commitment? But why to a corpse? And of one of their own leaders, no less?_

_Maybe it means that they have a commitment to the idea of death? Or maybe it means that... experiencing love is a weakness that could kill him, and their goal is to... prevent that? But why two brides? And what on earth is that girl doing on the altar?_

_What kind of plan could this possibly signify?_

It was absurd. There was no sanity to it. Was her power failing? Or... Another thought struck her. She had experienced similar problems once before—when Jadeite had been operating undercover at the Hikawa Shrine. Could that be it? Could these new enemies be deliberately blocking her attempts, and throwing up this nonsense image as a way of taunting her?

It was the only explanation that made sense. And even worse, it meant that in addition to their fighting skills, these new foes had a frightening level of sorcerous power to draw on.

* * *

_So this is where the humans go to learn..._ Beneda thought, as she walked across the grounds of Furinkan High. _I wonder what it's like here?_ She had little experience of such things; the closest equivalent she knew would be the training camps for Beryl's army, which did include some limited education.

She doubted, however, that the penalty for being in the lowest ten percent of this school was as steep—or as final—as it had been in the Dark Kingdom.

Anyway, whatever this place was normally like, she knew that its current condition had to be rather unusual. The small contingent of defenders bustled back and forth, making their frenzied preparations. That included her as well; even now she was lugging one of their many props—a strange device that the humans called a "dry ice machine"—over to the gymnasium, where the bulk of the setup was taking place. On her way she was passed by Shampoo, who was balancing a ridiculously high stack of paint cans in each hand. She also crossed paths with Soun, who was headed back for more.

Soon she reached the gym, which was where the real flurry of activity was centered. It had been only a few hours since Beneda had first set eyes on the place, but already the change from its initial state was drastic. Heavy curtains had been fastened over all the windows, the better to give the place a dark, foreboding feel. Ukyo and Genma were both hard at work, painting furiously, coloring the huge room pitch black.

Gosunkugi was there as well, overseeing things in general, dictating the placement of the various props and scenery, as well as painting all manner of complex sigils on the floor and walls. Beneda had to admit that the pale boy had been a tremendous assistance to them. In fact, he seemed quite eager to help give Ranma and Ryouga the appearance of villains.

Still... there was something she found suspicious about him, a nagging point of unease that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Regardless, however, she walked over to him. "Where do you want this?" she asked, indicating the machine she was carrying.

Gosunkugi looked up at her words, and immediately flinched fearfully back at the sight of the youma. "Umm..." he said. "Y- you can just put it over there next to those electric arc machines. I'm not ready to set those up yet."

Beneda nodded, carrying it over to the designated place and setting it down. As she stood back up, she noticed Ryouga sitting off by himself, staring intently at some sheets of paper he was holding, while mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

Deciding she could afford a break, Beneda walked over to him. "Hey," she said, prompting him to look up. "What are you doing?"

The lost boy sighed. "Just reading this stupid script that Ranma wrote up. I swear, I have no idea why he enjoys all this... _play-acting_ so much."

The youma raised her eyebrows a little. "He does this often?"

Ryouga's face darkened. "Oh yes. Whenever he wants to get his way, he just _loves_ to start playing dress-up. He might pretend to be your sister... or your fiancée... or a secret admirer... It's absolutely despicable!"

From his reaction, it was obvious to Beneda that she had stepped onto some sensitive territory. She wondered why. Perhaps Ranma had fooled Ryouga himself that way once? "Well, at least the result will be good this time..." she offered hopefully.

The human grunted. "I suppose. Anyway, at least he'll be handling all the lines. And I guess my role in this is better than the last time Ranma roped me into one of these things."

"The last time?"

"Yes. _Then_ I had to pretend to be a newborn baby, to try and convince a crazy old martial arts master that he'd gone back in time to give me a new name. Except the lunatic threw bombs at me instead."

"Aw, but it worked out in the end, didn't it P-chan?" Ranma's voice said from behind them. Beneda turned, to see the pigtailed fighter standing there, holding the bowl that he'd obtained from the Nekohanten—the key to this whole plan. Her youma senses could detect the magic aura emanating from the artifact. She just hoped that it was large enough that they could pass it off as what they were pretending it was.

Without waiting for an answer from Ryouga, Ranma turned and jogged over to the far side of the room, to the large altar-like pedestal that they had built to hold their magical item. He carefully set the bowl on top of it, then turned to Gosunkugi. "Hey, Gos," he called out. "Where are we going to put this thing, anyway? I was thinking right in the middle of the stage, right by where I'll be standing."

_"No!"_ Gosunkugi's response was surprisingly urgent. "No, it needs to stay _exactly_ where it is right now!"

Ranma scratched his head. "You sure? It's kinda out of the way over here by the wall..."

The pale boy nodded furiously. "It has to be there! It's due to the... magical interdynamics of the... aetheric equations. Trust me, it's the only right place."

The youma frowned, her suspicions rising up again. She was no mage... but Gosunkugi's explanation hadn't made much sense to her, and he definitely seemed to be acting shifty as he'd given it. She glanced over at Ryouga. "Hey," she said in an undertone. "Ryouga... how much do you trust this Gosunkugi person? What kind of dealings have you had with him in the past?"

"Huh?" asked Ryouga, sounding a little surprised at the question. "Well... I did beat him up once, during the whole business with the Weakness Moxibustion when he was attacking Ranma. But other than that, I haven't had that much to do with him. I know he hates Ranma—not that _that's_ anything to be surprised about. I guess we're lucky that he agreed to help us regardless."

Beneda took another long, hard stare at the pale, nervous-looking boy. "Yeah..." she said at length, her voice neutral. "Lucky."

Meanwhile, Ranma was doing some inspecting of his own, but in his case the object of his scrutiny was the pedestal that bore their magic bowl. Eventually, he shook his head. "Still needs a little something," he announced to no one in particular.

He thought for a while longer... then suddenly snapped his fingers and proceeded to dash over to where Ukyo was painting. Grabbing a can of black paint, he hurried back, took out a brush, and began to draw.

From the way his arm was moving, he seemed to be writing words in the Japanese script—three of them, laid out in a triangle pattern. He first drew the one on the top, then the bottom-right, then the bottom-left. Beneda craned her neck... but from the angle she and Ryouga were standing at, she couldn't tell what words the pigtailed fighter had written.

"Wow! You'd hardly even recognize this place anymore!" The sound of Akane's voice pulled Beneda's attention away from what Ranma was doing, as the short-haired girl walked into the gym.

"Yeah, pretty amazing, isn't it?" said Ranma, as he jogged back over to them. "And there's still a lot of stuff to do. Gotta finish all the painting, and then get all the equipment we bought hooked in..."

"I'm just surprised that the Principal let you do all this..." Akane told him, looking around at the drastic changes in the décor. "Especially considering how much damage it'll all have to take by the end..."

Ranma smiled a smile that was just a tiny bit too wide to be entirely innocent. "Oh, we just sat down with him and explained the situation calmly and rationally. He was downright cooperative once we'd gotten all that straightened out. But still, if it'll make you feel better, I'll double-check with him before we start, to make sure he knows _exactly_ what we're going to be doing..."

* * *

Cologne hopped down the street outside the Nekohanten on her cane, inspecting the ranks of Joketsuzoku that stood there with critical eye. They were tense, nervous, excited, scared, all in different measures. It was a powerful mixture that Cologne remembered all too well from her own youth. The wait before the battle. The calm before the storm.

Soon she arrived where Loofah stood, balanced on her own cane. "How are the warriors?" Cologne asked.

"They have been equipped as you suggested, in addition to their own personal weapons," was Loofah's crisp reply. "Our advance scouts are already out and watching. We are ready to move at any moment."

"Good," was Cologne's reply. "Then it is only a matter of time before the powder-keg is lit... and we see what the fortunes of war bring us."

* * *

Lesp paced anxiously back and forth in the limited space available. The warehouse was jam-packed with youma, crowded to the point where there was barely enough room to sleep at night. Fights were becoming more and more common as the days wore on and tempers frayed, and it seemed as though they were no closer to hunting down those new foes than when they had begun.

It was still several hours before she and Cortheia were scheduled to head out for their next shift searching the Nerima ward. She was out of that wretched human disguise and back in her natural form: a slender yellow body with a vaguely insectoid quality to it, especially in her curved, praying-mantis-like arms. She should have been resting, relaxing, but she found herself unable to do so. She was nervous.

Things were coming to a head. She could taste it, and she wasn't the only one. All their taskmasters had been coming down doubly hard on the scouting teams since yesterday, demanding results that the scouts simply couldn't provide. It seemed that someone high up was beginning to get desperate.

"Lesp! Lesp!" The youma turned, to see Cortheia running eagerly through the crowd toward her. Her partner was back in youma form as well—her body was a brilliant crimson, with long, winding white streaks running up and down its length. In contrast to Lesp, Cortheia was very excited, and blurted out her news as soon as she reached the other youma. "I think we're going to see some real action soon!"

A low murmur rippled through the nearby youma, and Lesp winced. The last thing they needed was for the youma here to be even more on edge. "Why do you think that?" she asked in an undertone, leaning in closer in the hope that she could minimize the attention being drawn to this.

Cortheia, of course, was far too enthused to take the hint. "I heard that Omidall had a dream last night!" she continued, just as loudly as before. "We were fighting—all of us—a great battle against the enemies of Queen Metallia!"

Lesp frowned, troubled in spite of herself. Omidall was a well-known youma, whose power was a weak level of precognition—usually no more than one or two seconds, just enough to give an advantage in combat. Still, simply knowing that she had the Sight meant that any dreams she had tended to be viewed by the other youma as extremely portentous.

Still, it didn't change the fact that the prospect of a pitched battle was not the best thing for morale at this point. "Well you shouldn't take everything that old bat says at face value," Lesp replied, this time deliberately trying to be heard. "Just because she can see a little way into the future, she goes around acting like she's the reincarnation of Bunbo the Seer. You know that half the pronouncements she spouts out never come true at all."

"Maybe..." said Cortheia, not sounding convinced. "Still, I _hope_ it's true. If it is, then we'll soon get to be a part of the first full-scale Dark Kingdom offensive in our lifetimes!" To emphasize her point, she formed her weapon, her hand transforming into a massive battle axe.

The words, far from encouraging Lesp, only made her stomach churn with more anxiety. _Yes, the first full-scale Dark Kingdom offensive in our lifetimes..._ she thought moodily. _Now it's just up to me to make sure that both of us survive it, or it'll be the last one as well..._

* * *

Ranma scratched his head, sighing tiredly. He was watching Shampoo, Ukyo and Akane as they worked to transform the gym to his specifications, but his actual thoughts were far from there. He was wracking his brain, trying to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He had known that this would be a complicated undertaking... but he hadn't fully realized just _how_ complicated.

Costumes? He had those, both for himself and for Ryouga, scrounged together yesterday from what he could find at a costume shop. Roles? He had assigned them all to the best people. Props and scenery? It looked like everything was under control and entering the homestretch, at least up here.

And the effect was impressive, if he did say so himself. The gym had been turned from a normal place of exercise into a dark, foreboding domain of evil. The walls and floors were now completely black, with mystic symbols painted everywhere in lurid, glow-in-the-dark red paint. The main gym floor was filled with all manner of arcane-looking equipment. Most of it was just for show, although some of it contained... surprises, for the endgame.

Figuring he'd better check on how things were going down below, Ranma hurried over to the stage at the far end of the room, and made his way to the trap door at the stage's center. In spite of himself he swallowed hard, a residual apprehension running briefly through his stomach. The _last_ time he had gone down through this trap door, it had been to a room full of cats, prepared by Gosunkugi. But he shook off the lingering memories, hopping down into the area beneath the stage.

Down here it had been transformed as well, although not in quite so theatrical a way. Wires were running everywhere, stretching up to the ceiling from the makeshift control board that had been hastily set up. Ranma could see Gosunkugi kneeling at the board even now, muttering something unintelligible under his breath as he worked away at it.

Mousse and Beneda were standing nearby, both of them having helped Gosunkugi string up the wiring. There was also a large sack laying next to Mousse—which reminded Ranma of something else he needed to do. But first things were first. "Everything all right down here?"

The hidden weapons master shrugged helplessly. "It's not as though _I_ know how any of this stuff is supposed to be set up," he groused. "I'm just following his instructions. We did test most of it out, though, and it seems to be working fine at this point."

Ranma nodded. "Great, glad to hear it," he said. Then he focused on Mousse. "Also, I promised Akane that I'd make sure the Principal knew exactly what we we're going to do with the school... so could I talk to him for a sec?"

"Be my guest." Mousse reached down to the large sack at his feet and upended it, dumping its contents out onto the floor with a heavy _thud_. The Principal glared up at them as best he could, hogtied by Mousse's chains as he was. He immediately burst out into a series of vitriolic-sounding noises that were—fortunately for the delicate sensibilities of those present—muffled by the gag that had been stuffed into his mouth.

The pigtailed fighter strolled over to stand by the prone pineapple-freak. "Hey Principal," he said in a friendly, conversational tone of voice. "Just wanted to let you know that we'll be taking over your school, remodeling some of it to make it a battlefield against a bunch of ancient magical warriors, and then pretty much trashing the place by the time we're done. You all right with that?"

A muffled howl of outrage managed to escape the gag, and the Principal threw himself toward Ranma, inching slowly along the floor until he had twisted himself into an awkward position where he could kick ineffectually at Ranma's ankles with the limited amount of slack that the chains allowed him, all the while making noises of vicious anger.

Ranma glanced up at Mousse, who shrugged. "Sounded like 'sure, go ahead' to me..."

"Great!" replied Ranma brightly. "You can put him back in the sack then, and I'll go tell Akane that I made sure he was okay with all of it."

With that he turned, and with a jaunty wave behind him, leaped back up through the trap door onto the stage above. He walked across the room to where Akane was, and relayed the good news about the Principal's unwavering support for their plan. He then exited the gym, deciding to go find Nabiki and make sure that she was ready to play her part in all this.

However, he hadn't gone a half-dozen steps before he remembered yet one _more_ thing he'd meant to do back there—something he'd meant to ask Akane, but had slipped his mind. Quickly retracing his steps, he stuck his head back through the door into the gym—causing all three girls to glance over at him, surprised.

"Hey!" he called out hurriedly, eager to be on his way. "Do you think you could find some more explosives somewhere to stick inside that altar-thing we've got the magic bowl on? I'm worried what we got isn't going to be enough. Thanks, I'd _really_ appreciate it!"

Then, without waiting for a reply, he turned and dashed off once again.

* * *

"So, Shigeo... you understand what you need to do, right?"

Nabiki's tone was light and airy, although it seemed that her classmate, Shigeo, wasn't sharing her attitude. She supposed she couldn't blame him, though, considering the situation he was in. He only stared down at the sidewalk shamefacedly, then nodded once.

"Good!" was the middle Tendo daughter's reply. "Now run along. Ranma should be here to talk with me soon, and I'd prefer it if he didn't know how I'm planning to profit off this little venture of his. Just do your job right, and you won't have to worry about your girlfriend finding out about your little... indiscretion." _Until the next time I need something from you, that is..._ she added silently to herself.

Shigeo nodded again, a slightly haunted look on his face, then turned and walked away. He already knew where he needed to go; learning the place where Ranma intended to start things off had been the reason she had agreed to help him in the first place.

Nabiki smiled a wide, carnivorous smile. She had known this opportunity would come, from the moment that youma had shown up on their doorstep. As a precaution, she'd established a bit of blackmail against Beneda, just in case it had become necessary to take a more active hand in causing something like this to happen. But really, knowing Ranma's... tendencies... she wasn't the slightest bit surprised that it had ended up being unnecessary.

"Hey Nabiki! There you are!" She had not sent Shigeo away a moment too soon, it seemed. The mercenary girl turned, and saw Ranma jogging down the street toward her, with Ryouga following in his wake, carrying a large backpack.

"Hello Ranma," she replied easily. "Is it time for us to go already?"

"Yeah," Ranma said. "We're as ready as we're ever going to be. We got the fireworks, the costumes, I've got the smoke bomb right here up my sleeve..." He raised his hand by way of indication. "And we know the Senshi are here looking for us; Pop managed to find the one that he met, and he's been tailing her. We aren't going to get a better shot than this."

"Wonderful," Nabiki said. "Well then, there's only one thing left to do..." She held out her hand, palm up.

The pigtailed fighter groaned. "Aw, come on Nabiki! This is a matter of life and death here!"

"Of course!" she replied, without hesitation. "Which means that getting my help should we worth a _lot_ to you then, shouldn't it?"

They locked eyes for a few seconds, but in the end Ranma crumbled first, as she'd known he would. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, reaching into his pockets for his wallet as Nabiki's smile widened.

After all, just because she was in this to further her other plan didn't mean that she wasn't going to milk as many yen out of him as she could in the process.

* * *

Mizuno Ami sat on a park bench somewhere in Nerima Ward, poking half-heartedly at the Mercury Computer. She was studying the problems that faced them, as she had been for the past few hours, but she felt no closer to a solution than when she'd started. Too little data. And of what data they did have, too much of it was senseless, even contradictory.

The frustration of not being able to do anything gave her no rest. _This type of situation is when I'm supposed to be of the most use,_ she thought. _But I'm letting them down. My intelligence is my one good point, but I can't figure out what's going on here!_

Then she shook her head doggedly. _No! I can't give up. There must be an explanation for all this; I just have to keep searching until I find it._

But how? Where? She needed to find some kind of new lead, some approach she hadn't tried yet. She certainly wasn't going to find out anything new just sitting arou—

Her thought process was abruptly interrupted by a loud explosion from behind her. She shot to her feet, whirling around, just in time to see fading showers of blue sparks falling to earth. _Someone setting off a firework? Here in city limits?_

It was soon followed by another blast, and another, and another. All coming from the same location. Blue explosions, red explosions, white explosions.

Senshi colors.

She began to run, searching for a secluded spot, her hand gripping her transformation pen tightly. Soon she found an out-of-the-way nook, tucked between two stores, and lost no time in calling out the phrase that had already become second nature to her. _"Mercury Power, Make Up!"_

The magic took hold of her, and she felt her normal clothes fading away even as streams of water wound themselves around her, solidifying into her blue sailor fuku. Soon the transformation was complete, and she stood there as Sailor Mercury.

Without wasting any time, she ran back out into the street and began to race toward the source of the signal. As she ran, she pulled out her Senshi communicator. "Sailor Moon! Sailor Mars! Luna! Did you see—?"

"We saw," was Sailor Mars' response. "We're on our way as well, but I think you're the closest one."

The Senshi of water nodded. That had been her appraisal as well. "Hurry. I'll do what I can until you arrive." Then she clicked the communicator off, and increased her speed.

As she drew nearer, she realized that a large crowd was beginning to gather in the direction she was headed. Gasps, shocked whispers, murmurs—all could be heard. Seconds later she rounded a corner... and her eyes widened as she saw the cause of all this.

It was them. The two they had faced before—Ranma and Ryouga. They stood high atop one of the nearby buildings, looking disdainfully down on the shocked crowd below.

Nor was that all. The pigtailed boy's arm was wrapped tightly around the neck of a short-haired girl, holding her threateningly off the edge of the building. Her legs flailed helplessly for purchase in the empty air, and she was whimpering in a way that sounded utterly terrified.

No sooner had she come into view than Ranma's gaze turned to settle on her. _"Aha!"_ he exclaimed, shaking a fist in her direction. "So... the pathetic defenders of goodness have finally shown up! We've been waiting for you to get here, Sailor Senshi!"

Drawing herself up to her full height, Sailor Mercury met Ranma's eyes, then began to walk closer, the crowd parting around her with a soft murmur. When she finally stopped, it was almost at the building's foot. Looking up at them, she spoke. "So... you _are_ evil, after all!"

"Oh, you have _no_ idea..." intoned the pigtailed fighter ominously, tightening his grip a little and drawing another scream from the hostage. "We had to hide ourselves before, 'cause the time wasn't right yet. But now, at last, we can reveal ourselves to the world! We're going to rule this _entire planet_ before we're through, and we're starting with this ward right here! Now prepare yourself... to see our _true power!_"

Sailor Mercury took a half-step back, her muscles tensing, preparing herself for whatever might be coming next. Ranma smirked...

...then there was a flash of light and an explosion of dark smoke, bursting out with no warning from the two boys. For a few seconds the entire rooftop was obscured from sight. Eventually, though, the breeze cleared it away... and the Senshi gasped at what she saw.

The two boys were standing in the same places as before, Ranma's arm still around the girl's neck, but now their clothing had been completely transformed. Ranma was now clad completely in black, from his black tunic and pants, to his black gloves, to the black cloak that hung down his back, to the set of black spiked shoulder guards that he now wore. Covering his head was a bulky black helmet, with outrageously large black antlers sprouting out on each side.

Ryouga's change was more colorful, but no less extreme. The cloak he wore was blood-red, though underneath it his tunic and pants were black as well. On _his_ head was a large white turban, while strung across his face was a black eyepatch.

The sheer garishness of the sight struck Sailor Mercury dumb for a moment, but Ranma continued to rant. "Cower before us! _Cower_, you puny humans! 'Cause you're up against the most powerful evil in the universe! We are Ranma and Ryouga... and we are _the Dark Lords of Nerima!_" With that, he threw back his head and began to laugh maniacally.

* * *

Ranma looked down from his lofty perch at the Sailor Senshi who had come to face them down. The slightly boggled expression she was wearing wasn't _quite_ the awe and fear that he had been hoping for... but it would have to do.

Even as he watched her, he was also keeping his senses alert for any sign of disguised youma in the crowd. With all the agents the Dark Kingdom had combing this ward, he'd expected one to have shown up long before now. _Figures. The one time we actually want them to find us..._

In any case, it meant that he had to hold off before getting to the real meat of things. After all, the Senshi weren't the only ones that needed to hear it.

In the crook of his arm, Nabiki twisted and struggled, looking every inch the part of the terrified hostage. He tightened his grip on her again—but not _too_ tight, though. He knew the mercenary girl would give him hell later if he made her more uncomfortable than he needed to.

Still no sign of any youma, or the other Senshi. Time to stall, then. "This is your last chance to give up, little girl," Ranma shouted down. "Bow down and say you'll become our minion! After this, we won't have any mercy on anyone in our way!"

The Sailor chick didn't flinch, Ranma noted. "We would _never_ serve you," she replied. "As guardians of justice, we'll oppose you to the very end. We can't stand by and allow you to harm innocents for your own selfish ends."

Ranma chuckled, then gave Nabiki another shake, which she supported with more frantic screams. "Oh, you mean my little piece of insurance here? Yeah, if you really want to protect the innocent, then you better not do anything that'd make me lose my grip. It's a _long_ way down..."

He was rewarded with an angry look flashing through the Senshi's eyes. _Heh, I think I'm getting the hang of this "villain" thing,_ he mused. _Just a matter of finding the right buttons to push..._

He opened his mouth to say more... but then he noticed a strange feel from two of the people in the crowd below. A subtle, almost _oily_ feel to their ki. _Disguised youma?_ he wondered. _Yeah, it's gotta be! It's just how Mousse described it._

Which meant that—finally—they could get the real show on the road.

The Senshi below was making a speech, something about love and righteousness always triumphing over those with impure hearts, but Ranma tuned her out. "Hey Nabiki," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, almost inaudibly. "See those two ladies pushing their way toward the front of the crowd? Purple dress and red miniskirt? They're our youma." Nabiki's response was a barely-discernable nod.

Then it was back to shouting for him. "Foolishness!" he roared, figuring it was a good general-purpose evil response to whatever it was the girl had been going on about. "What you don't get is that you've already lost! Our plan is practically complete! Surrender or die—that's your only choice!"

The girl glared up at him, but with the hostage there was little she could do. She certainly wasn't giving in, though—not that he had expected her to. He could see the gears turning in her head, trying to figure out a way to safely rescue Nabiki from them.

A tiny grin worked its way across Ranma's features. _All right, then,_ he thought. _Let's see what she comes up with._

* * *

Sailor Mercury watched the two newly-revealed Dark Lords carefully, analyzing the situation from every angle she could think of. It was bad, no question. She was outnumbered, and her own magic provided little offensive power to begin with. Worst of all, there was an innocent life hanging in the balance.

She could not make any mistakes.

In her mind's eye, she summoned up the image of a city map. She knew the areas that her fellow Senshi had been searching, and how far away each of them were. _Sailor Moon is the closest,_ she thought.

She then estimated where in that search her blonde friend would have been when the fireworks went up, extrapolated the route she would likely take from there, and used that to determine the precise direction her comrade would likely be coming from.

All that took place in less than a second. After her calculations were complete, the Senshi spoke up. "Don't you think you chose the wrong hostage for something like this?" she asked Ranma. "If it's my team that you want to defend against... then why not take me in exchange for her?" With that, she leapt up onto the rooftop herself, still keeping her distance from the two evil warriors.

Ranma swung around to keep her in view, keeping the hostage between the two of them. "Hah! Not a chance!" he said. "Like I'd really trust you to make a deal like that! You just keep your distance, little girl."

Sailor Mercury said nothing—her true aims already fulfilled. She hadn't thought she could get him to agree to the trade, but in turning to face her new position, the girl was no longer over the edge, and their backs were now turned toward precisely the direction from which she expected Sailor Moon at any moment.

"Then I have an offer for you as well," she threw back defiantly in their faces, playing for attention, playing for time. "_You_ surrender. We don't want to kill you... but if you force us to, we will."

At that, Ranma burst out laughing. "You? Kill us?" he asked in disbelief, when he had finally regained control over himself. "If you knew the power we're about to summon, there's no way you could say that. You won't even come close to scratching our—_gah!_"

Ranma suddenly jerked his head sideways, the glowing disc of the Moon Tiara arcing in from behind him and slicing right through where his skull had been only an instant before. The weapon twisted in midflight, swerving to avoid the hostage and swinging back around to return to its owner, who was standing with Luna on another rooftop about a block away.

But although the attack failed to kill him, the sudden dodge had caused the Dark Lord to lose his grip on the girl. She managed to writhe out of his grasp, and immediately bolted away from him.

Before the villain could give chase, Sailor Mercury was calling on her power. _"Shabon Spray!"_ she shouted, blanketing the entire rooftop in a wave of mist. Even as she did so, she ran to intercept the fleeing girl, grabbed hold of her, and then leaped out of the mist to another building, far away from the girl's captors.

The instant they were clear, long streaks of consuming fire began to roar their way into the mist, pounding the rooftop with explosions of flame that made the mist glow angrily. _Sailor Mars too?_ thought Sailor Mercury, surprised. _She made better time than I'd hoped._

But the attacks were unsuccessful; a moment later, both Dark Lords burst out of the mist themselves, leaping away to yet another nearby building. Sailor Mercury allowed her mist to dissipate, and for a moment the two groups simply stood there, watching each other carefully, sizing up the new situation.

She noticed that, for some odd reason, Ranma's attention had become completely focused on where Sailor Moon and Luna were standing. He seemed to have gone as rigid as a board, his previous banter completely disappearing. And... Sailor Mercury squinted. It was hard making out small details at such a distance, but... were his hands trembling?

Ryouga—who had up until now remained in the background—mouthed something that might have been a curse, and then spoke up. "Uh... This... doesn't change anything!" he shouted, though with far less self-assuredness than Ranma had displayed. "You just... lost your chance to give up, that's all! And, uh... before today is over... you're going to see the true power... of _evil!_" He followed that with a half-hearted shake of his fist, then grabbed Ranma by the shoulder and dragged him roughly off.

Sailor Mercury looked down at the older girl, who was still clinging to her, obviously in a state of panic. "Are you hurt any?" the Senshi asked hurriedly. "We need to chase after those two before they disappear; will you be all right on your own?"

The poor girl looked up at her, eyes wide with urgency. "No, wait!" she demanded. "You've got to listen to me; it's important! When they kidnapped me, before they brought me here, they were keeping me at their base, and I overheard them talking when they didn't realize I was listening. _I know what their plan is!_"

* * *

Shigeo looked on from a distance as the young girl in the blue uniform carried the "frightened" Nabiki down from the building's roof. His lip curled as he watched the mercenary spin out her act.

The Sailor Senshi. Even now, he couldn't quite believe it. When Nabiki had first sprung her demand on him, he had been sure she was joking. He had always been in the camp that viewed them as urban legends. Sure, there were a lot of stories and hearsay floating around, but never anything in the way of solid proof.

Until now, of course.

The boy raised the camera to his eye once again, focusing this time on the red-clad one as she hopped down to street level as well. A press of the button, a whirr of the shutter, and he had collected one more means for the girl who had his reputation by the throat to increase her coveted cash supply even further.

* * *

Givana watched as the Sailor Senshi—accursed murderers of her sisters—gathered next to the human that they had just rescued. Her partner had rushed off to try and follow those new interlopers, but she had stayed behind to keep an eye on what the Dark Kingdom's _other_ foes would do in response to this.

The disguised youma worked her way through the crowd, getting as close to them as she dared. The ex-hostage was sitting on the ground, evidently still recovering from the ordeal—as expected of such a weak creature. Givana just managed to catch the tail end of something Sailor Mars was saying. "...very sorry you had to go through something like this. Don't worry; we won't let those two get away with it."

"Thank you," the human said, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "It was definitely a horrible experience. But... you have to understand, this is only the beginning. What he said about taking over the world... he was serious. After today, there won't be anyone in the world who could possibly stand against them!"

"What do you mean?" asked Sailor Mercury urgently. "What are they intending?"

"According to what I heard them say, those two aren't really from this planet. In fact... they're not even from this dimension. They're invaders from some kind of... alternate plane of existence, and they're here to add Earth to their empire!"

"Just the two of them? Alone?" asked the Senshi's cat, sounding skeptical.

"No, that's just it!" the human answered, shaking her head. "Everything so far is just their advance force. They're about to complete a ritual that will summon more of their army to this world—millions and millions of crazed warriors, all of them _even stronger_ than those two commanders!"

The Senshi paled, doubtless feeling sick to their stomachs at the sudden revelation of how close they were to annihilation. At least, Givana knew that was how _she_ was feeling. _A force of that strength... not even the Dark Kingdom could survive it!_

"Wh- what are we going to _do?_" wailed Sailor Moon, looking back and forth between her fellow Senshi. "We can't fight a million of those guys!"

"Then we just have to stop the ritual before it finishes!" Sailor Mars exclaimed, shooting to her feet. "You said you know where it's happening?"

The human girl nodded. "That's where they were holding me. They've taken over Furinkan High School and they're using it as their base of operations."

"Then that's where we have to go," said the cat, her voice grim. "Let's hurry; we probably don't have much time left."

"Wait! There's one more thing!" interjected the girl. "When they were talking about the ritual, there was one thing in particular that they kept mentioning. An artifact. They called it the 'Sacred Grail of the Snake and Ox', and it sounded like it was the key to bringing in their forces. They were arguing about whether the energy flow was great enough to support their entire army or not."

At that, Sailor Mercury's head snapped up. "Wait—'support'?" she asked urgently. "Is 'support' exactly what they said?"

The human girl frowned, her face taking on a puzzled expression. "Um, yes..." she replied hesitantly. "Why? Is that important?"

Sailor Mercury nodded. "It _might_ indicate that their dimension-bridging spell isn't a one-time instance. They may need some kind of... continuous aid... to exist in this dimension. Which means that if we can destroy that artifact, it might do even more than just stop their ritual. If those two are tied to that 'Sacred Grail' as well..."

The ex-hostage's eyes widened in shock. _"Gosh!"_ she exclaimed. "You're right! It's probably their weak spot!"

Fresh hope written in their faces, the Senshi all quickly rose to leave. "Thank you very much!" shouted back Sailor Moon. "You were a really big help!"

"Oh, don't mention it!" the girl called after them, a warm smile on her face. "It was entirely my pleasure."

* * *

Deep within the bowels of the Dark Kingdom, the Darkmistress paced angrily back and forth, while Jadeite watched impassively from his healing pod. It was maddening. Four days since their cooperative search had started, and still nothing to show for it. She could almost feel the walls closing in on her from every direction.

A sudden beeping interrupted her thoughts. Walking over to a nearby console, she looked down at it, reading the text glowing in the screen.

"What is it?" Jadeite demanded.

"A report from one of your agents," was the Darkmistress's reply. "She says... she says that they've located our enemies! And that..." Her voice trailed off as she read farther. Then her eyes widened. _"No!"_

She spun back to Jadeite. "These foes are more dangerous than we ever imagined!" she said, not even trying to disguise the frantic urgency in her voice. "Contact the warehouses! We need to send every youma we can into Nerima _immediately!_"

Without waiting for a reply she turned and strode out of the room, moving as fast as her pride would allow her to be seen. Inside, her mind was racing. _It all makes sense now,_ she thought darkly. _This is why they challenged us directly, even with such small numbers. It wasn't overconfidence. They were just testing our strength, before committing their main force!_

She burst through a door, looking for one of her servants to carry a message. With the stakes as high as they were, she needed her most elite unit to be in the fray. _"You!"_ she roared at the first Inquisitor she saw. "Have my Demons report to me. _Now!_"

The Inquisitor raced off at top speed to obey. Hissing furiously, the Darkmistress spun around, her hands clenching and unclenching. It was hanging by a thread. Everything was hanging by a thread.

Reaching up behind herself, the corpse-like youma unfastened the headpiece that she wore on her forehead, taking it into her hands and staring at it. It helped to calm her, a little, looking at its white, wing-like outline and the dark red gem at its center. It had been a gift from Queen Beryl, given to her so many, many years ago, on the day that the Queen had recognized her as the new Darkmistress.

The ancient talisman was many things, but to the Darkmistress, first and foremost, it was a sign. A sign of all that she had struggled and schemed and sacrificed to achieve. A sign that she was the most powerful, the most influential, the most _feared_ youma in all the Dark Kingdom.

Her fingers clenched on the headpiece. _I won't let it be taken away from me,_ she vowed. _I've faced threats before this... and I've always triumphed. This will be no different from any of those other times. I will find a way through._

_ And I will crush all those who oppose me._

* * *

Beneda sat in the dimly lit room beneath the stage, her knees curled tightly to her chest, worrying. The plan had begun, and there was no going back now. Ranma, Ryouga and Nabiki had left to set off the firestorm, and soon everything would be converging here. Now that they had actually come to it, she could scarcely believe the audaciousness of what they were trying to accomplish.

Even so, there was nothing to do but press forward.

The sound of movement caused her to glance up. It was Gosunkugi. The pale boy was moving slowly toward the room's exit, trying to remain inconspicuous... but trying so hard that the result was as conspicuous as anything Beneda could imagine.

The youma's eyes narrowed, her earlier suspicions increasing tenfold. Her every instinct told her that he was up to something. She didn't know what, but she couldn't sit idle any longer. "Gosunkugi."

The human just about jumped out of his skin at the sound of his name, whirling around. "What?" he demanded defensively. "What do you want?"

Beneda slowly rose to her feet, walking over toward him, causing him to shrink back as she approached. "I just wanted to know where you were going," she replied mildly.

Now the human was starting to sweat. "I- I'm just getting out of here, that's all!" he protested. "My part is done, isn't it? The fighting's going to start soon, and I don't want to be here when it does!"

A reasonable enough desire... but watching him, Beneda knew that wasn't the whole story. _There's more to this than he's letting on... something he's afraid of us finding out._

With a few rapid steps, Beneda closed the remaining distance between them. The human scrambled frantically backward, but soon hit the wall behind him. The youma lowered her head until her face was only inches away from Gosunkugi's, her eyes burning into his cringing visage. "Don't try to lie to me," she warned, her voice soft but menacing. "You aren't _nearly_ good enough compared to what I'm used to dealing with. I know there's something you've been hiding from Ranma. I want to know what it is."

The human tried desperately to run away, but Beneda grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him back against the wall. "Oh no," she said. "You're not going anywhere until I get some answers. Ranma and Ryouga may trust you, but I know you're planning to betray them somehow... and I'll be _damned_ if I just stand by and let that happen!" With a flick of her wrist, she turned her other hand into a shuriken, and pressed the blade up against Gosunkugi's throat. _"Tell me!"_

Gosunkugi's response was to faint dead away.

Beneda swore under her breath. _Shouldn't have pushed him so hard..._ she chastised herself. _Now I still don't know... hey, what's this?_

As she lowered the boy's limp body to the ground, she heard a soft crinkling sound. Reaching inside his shirt and fishing around, she soon pulled out a bunch of wrinkled papers that he had been hiding.

Spreading them out on the floor, she quickly recognized their nature. _It's a diagram of this building..._ she thought, puzzled. _Why would he need something like this? And why would he want to hide it from us?_

She studied it for a few seconds, but most of it was incomprehensible to her. She was familiar enough with everyday human terms, but the nitty-gritty specifics of their technology and infrastructure were largely mysterious. The Dark Kingdom ran entirely on magitech, and the human equivalents—like the power system based on _electricity_ that she had been working with all day—were foreign and bizarre.

_I ought to get someone else to help me figure this out._ Snatching back the papers, she leaped up through the trap door to the stage above, glancing around for someone to help her.

She was in luck; Ukyo was right there, doing something with the main pedestal that held the magic bowl on top of it. She had opened up a small hatch at its base, and was trying to cram something into it... though it seemed to be having some trouble fitting for some reason. She finally managed to force it in, however, and then glanced up. "Oh! Hey Beneda, sorry I didn't notice you. I was just taking care of something Ranchan asked me to do for him."

"Don't worry about it," the youma replied, shaking her head. "I need you to look at something important. I think there might be a problem with the plan, but I don't know enough about... human things... to tell."

The okonomiyaki chef frowned, rising back to her feet. "Sure, what is it?" she said, turning her back on the pedestal and walking toward Beneda. "Is it something that—?"

Suddenly a blur of black plummeted down from the high overhead. Ukyo whirled, hastily readying a trio of spatulas between her fingers and hurling them, but the intruder managed to deflect the attack. The figure twisted in midair, and lashed out with a long scarlet ribbon, that writhed down, snaking around the magical bowl where it rested on the altar and yanking it away.

An instant later the figure landed, and the other two got their first clear view of who it was. "Kodachi?" Ukyo said, incredulous. "What on earth are you _doing_?"

_"Ohohohohohohoho!"_ Kodachi favored them both with a superior smile. "Did you really think that your little ploy would escape my notice? Even if you join forces with the Chinese barbarian and that Tendo harridan to work your black magics, I will never surrender my beloved Ranma to the likes of you!"

Ukyo and Beneda both blinked. "...what are you talking about?" asked the young chef, sounding utterly flummoxed. "And give that bowl back, or I'll pound you into the floor and _take_ it back!"

"Never!" shot back the leotard-clad gymnast. "I have been observing you and your preparations. I know that this is a crucial piece of your deceitful plan. But it will be _I_ who uses its power to win the heart of my darling Ranma!"

It was at about this time, more or less, when Beneda realized that reasoning with this girl was not likely to work particularly well. Ukyo must have come to a similar conclusion, since her next action was to unsheathe her massive battle spatula and lunge at Kodachi with a strike.

The gymnast leaped away, sprinting like mad for the exit, with Ukyo and Beneda hot on her heels. The youma was panicking as she ran. If they didn't have that bowl, the whole plan would fall apart!

"Stop her! _Stop her!_" yelled Ukyo as she gave chase. But in mere moments, Kodachi reached the exit to the gym—

—and then, just as her hand was reaching out for the door, Akane burst through it, throwing a kick right at the thief's face. Kodachi flung herself to the side, just barely evading the sudden attack, then turning the frantic dodge into a series of flips that carried her away. Akane gave chase, with Ukyo and Beneda angling in from different directions.

Kodachi backpedaled, then spun and bolted for another exit on the far side of the gym... only to see that Shampoo was already standing in her path, arms crossed, a smirk on her face as she leaned leisurely against the door Kodachi had been trying to reach. Beneda's eyebrows shot up. _When did she get there? I never even noticed her arrive!_

The gymnast spun back and forth, looking for some avenue of escape, but none was offered. The three girls and one youma were closing steadily in on her from every direction. "Well, so much for your plan to 'win Ranma', however you intended to do it with that thing," remarked Ukyo. "Now I'll say it again: give that bowl back before we have to hurt you."

Kodachi straightened up. "Surely you must be joking," she scoffed. "I may not be able to escape with this... _but I will at least deny it to you!_" With that, she raised the magical bowl high, and hurled it straight down at the ground. Beneda's eyes widened in horror—seeing disaster impending, but unable to respond in time to avert it.

The three martial artists, however, were quicker on the uptake. Reacting in the barest fraction of an instant available to them, they hurled themselves into headlong dives, their bodies blurring through the air, then skidding along the floor as they fought desperately to get under the falling bowl.

They made it. Ukyo and Shampoo reached their target simultaneously, their hands slipping under it just before it hit, and catching it expertly in their fingers. Akane arrived a moment later, her hands shooting over the bowl protectively, to shield it from any further attacks.

But Kodachi did not seem interested in further attacks. Instead, she launched herself away from where the three girls were lying clustered on the floor.

And then Beneda saw the _second_ thing Kodachi had thrown down, even as she had fled.

_"Look out!"_ the youma shouted... but it was too late. The small packet hit the ground hard, exploding into a huge cloud of swirling dust that engulfed the gymnast's four adversaries.

Shampoo, already halfway to her feet, began to spasm uncontrollably and crumpled back to the ground. Ukyo had made a vain attempt to roll away, cut short as the cloud caught her as well. Akane pitched forward, choking out "P- paralysis powder!" as she fell. And Beneda...

...didn't seem to be affected at all. She looked from paralyzed girl to paralyzed girl, then looked down at her own—completely steady—hands, flipping them over and back again a few times for good measure.

Then she looked up to where Kodachi stood, just outside the cloud's radius. "I'm guessing you never tested this stuff on a youma before."

"A regrettable oversight," Kodachi agreed. Then she hurled a barrage of gymnastics clubs at Beneda, the projectiles hissing through the air at her with blinding speed. The youma dodged frantically, only just managing to keep ahead of the onslaught.

It was all the opening Kodachi needed. She lashed out with her ribbon once more, reaching again for the coveted bowl.

_No! I won't let you!_ Beneda thought, forming a shuriken and firing it faster than she would have thought herself capable of doing. It spun through the air on an intercept course with the ribbon... but at the last second, the ribbon twisted impossibly, snaking around Beneda's attack like a living thing and snatching up the prize while the shuriken embedded solidly in the floor.

The gymnast let out a gloating laugh. "The tables have turned, have they not?" she crowed. "Let that be a lesson to all who would stand in the way of my love for Ranma!" Then, after launching a whirlwind of black petals, she bounded away toward the nearest exit.

Beneda charged after her, reaching the door mere moments after Kodachi escaped through it. Then she paused, glancing back at the three prone humans, torn by the thought of leaving them. She didn't actually know how dangerous that stuff Kodachi had used really was... what if they needed help?

But then a shout from Ukyo settled the matter for her. "Don't worry about us!" the chef somehow managed to rasp out. "We'll follow as soon as we can. Just don't let her get away!"

The youma nodded, then raced out the door, sprinting after the disappearing figure of the gymnast with all her might.

* * *

Within one of the youma-filled warehouses, Marceat felt a wild glee bubbling up inside her as she read the orders she had just received. Then, springing to her feet, she shouted at the top of her lungs to the sea of fellow youma spread out beneath her.

_"We have found them!"_ she yelled, causing a ripple of shock to course through the troops. "Assemble with your assigned platoons, and prepare for combat! We attack! _We attack!_"

The scene below quickly devolved into pandemonium, but Marceat was already moving toward the controls for the warehouse doors, leaving her lieutenants to get the force into order. Slowly, the chaos began to even out into a more focused intensity, as the last-minute preparations were made.

And then they were ready.

Marceat slammed her palm down on the controls, and with a loud grinding sound, the massive door at the front of the warehouse opened up. With a loud roar, the army burst out into the city beyond, thundering down the street, a raging, multi-colored flood.

Quickly the army took to the rooftops, leaping from building to building as they swarmed across the city. Each of them charging forward with all possible speed. Each of them intent solely on their target.

Like an oncoming storm, the horde of youma bore down on Furinkan High.


	18. Joining Forces

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Joining Forces

The Darkmistress stalked back into the medical area, throwing a contemptuous glance over to where Jadeite stood, leaning against one of the walls. It was obvious that even staying on his feet was taxing given his severe injuries, and she held little hope that he would be of any use when it came time to fight.

Even so, the fool still had his uses. The Darkmistress did not herself possess the magic to open gateways at will to the human world, and she would need that ability to rendezvous with their forces. Not to mention that she needed Jadeite's presence to exert authority over his soldiers.

"I humbly request that you prepare yourself to transport us, General," she snapped, with not a trace of actual deference in her tone. "We have an attack that we must take command of."

Jadeite shot back a glare. "I have been monitoring the progress of the army," he rasped. "I can send us there at any time. Shall we go?"

"Not yet." The corpse-like youma crossed her arms. "This time, I am going to bring extra insurance with me."

Even as she spoke, she could hear footsteps approaching down the hallway outside. A few moments later the door to the medical area opened once more... and through it walked the most dangerous group of youma under her command.

There were five of them, each clad in an extremely skimpy, midriff-baring outfit. From each of their backs sprouted a single pair of long, diaphanous wings, shaped like those of a dragonfly. From each of their foreheads sprouted a smaller, purely decorative pair of wings—these ones feathered.

The main difference between the five was their color; each of them was a different hue. The green-colored one was named Zelen, the purple one Fialova, the red one Cerven, and the pink one Ruzova. And, finally—her color a pale blue that verged almost on the green—the team leader Modra.

The Darkmistress smiled a long, nasty smile. These were, without question, her best fighters. She had trained each and every one of them personally. They were her strong right arm, the enforcers of her will. And so this team had taken on a suitable name: the Darkmistress's Demons.

At least, that was their official title. In practice, most youma preferred not to invoke the Darkmistress's title so casually, and so over many years, the unit had gradually come to be known by an abbreviated version of their name.

The DD Girls.

"Good, you're here," the Darkmistress said to them. "Now we can depart. If you would be so kind... _sir?_"

Jadeite ground his teeth, but complied. Steeling his concentration, he raised a hand. Soon a black, swirling portal appeared in the air before him, and he lowered his hand, his breath shuddering in and out.

A small uneasiness began to creep into the Darkmistress's stomach. Yes, the portal was there... but it was not quite stable, flickering alarmingly at the edges. Had Jadeite been uninjured, it would have been an altogether trivial feat for him to get them all to their destination. However, in his current condition the youma worried that even a mere seven passengers might prove too much for the gateway he had constructed. And if it did, it would prove _very_ unpleasant for anyone passing through such a gateway when it failed.

But she knew there was little choice. Everything could well hang on the events that were about to play out, and this was the only way they could reach Nerima ward in time to affect the outcome. It was a risk they had to take.

Striding forward, she walked without hesitation into the maw of the black portal.

There was a lurching sensation, a brief feeling of disorientation, and then she was on the other side, in the human world. Behind her, Jadeite came through the portal as well, followed by the DD Girls. It did not escape the Darkmistress's notice that the portal failed in a rather uncontrolled fashion the instant their group was through, slicing off a few inches of Modra's long blonde hair that did not quite make it out.

Perhaps moving all seven of them _had_ been a bit ambitious...

But they had made it, exactly where they needed to be. The youma army was thundering across the rooftops to their left—a sight that reassured the Darkmistress with its raw power. She began to leap toward it, and the DD Girls immediately flew into position around her, ready to react to any threat. Jadeite followed in flight as well, though his movement was decidedly more ginger.

Within minutes, they had entered the teeming press of youma, and located the commander who had been overseeing the charge—one of Jadeite's subordinates, a snake-like youma named Marceat. She, of course, immediately turned command over to her master.

The wounded General lost no time in giving her fresh orders. "I want every youma with the power of flight up in the air," he bit out. "Have them form a skirmish line ahead of our forces, and tell them to keep an eye out for any hostiles. I want advance warning if the enemy tries to attack us before we reach their base!"

Marceat nodded and began relaying his orders, shouting at the troops with a volume and a dynamism that Jadeite could not currently employ, even though he was trying his best to hide it. The Darkmistress frowned. The Dark General was fast proving to be an even greater liability than she had expected... and she began to quietly revise her plans for how to best to handle the present situation.

* * *

With a final leap, Ranma and Ryouga cleared the wall around Furinkan High, and landed on the grounds inside. They had made good time—at least, they had once Ranma had recovered his senses enough to stop Ryouga from dragging them off in a completely random direction.

The two Dark Lords raced toward the gym, their cloaks billowing out behind them. They skidded to a stop at the main entrance, and the pigtailed fighter turned to his rival. "Wait here and keep an eye out. Yell if you see anyone coming."

Ryouga nodded. Turning, Ranma dashed inside the building, calling out as he did so. "Hey, the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi are all on their way, so you guys better get out of... here?" He stopped, puzzled, as he realized that he was talking to an empty room.

_Weird, they left already?_ he wondered. _I thought we were going to touch base first..._ He took a quick glance around the room, just to make sure that everything was in place—

—and just about had a heart attack when his gaze fell on the pedestal where their magical artifact sat. Or rather, where it was _supposed_ to be sitting. All Ranma could see was its notable absence.

He ran over to the pedestal, hoping it was all some kind of mistake. As he drew nearer, he saw that there was a small note lying where the bowl should have been. Snatching it up, he read what was written on it.

_**Ranma,**_

_**We had a little bit of a problem while you were gone. Kodachi showed up, paralyzed us, and stole the bowl. We don't exactly know why. Beneda chased after her, and we're going to try to find them and back her up. We'll be back as soon as we can, so don't worry.**_

_**-Akane**_

For a few seconds, Ranma simply stood there, dumbstruck. He was only snapped out of it by a sudden shout from Ryouga outside. "_Ranma!_ Get out here!"

Ranma ran back out. "What? What is it?"

The lost boy's response was simply to point. Ranma's gaze followed the finger, far off into the distance, where he noticed what looked like a strange, churning, multi-colored cloud, roiling at about rooftop level.

And then he realized what he was looking at. Youma. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, more than he could even begin to count.

"How the hell...?" he breathed. "I thought Beneda said that they wouldn't be able to launch an army like that in broad daylight?"

Ryouga just shook his head, slowly. "It looks like they found a way."

The two boys stood in stunned silence, watching the distant horde thunder toward them. A force far beyond anything they had planned for, and with the bowl's theft, no way to carry out their plan in any case.

At length, Ranma spoke up again, the extreme nature of their plight managing to overwhelm even his usual bravado, such that he delivered an unflinchingly honest appraisal of what they faced.

"We are _so_ screwed."

* * *

Cologne and Mousse stood next to each other on the corner of a store's rooftop, regarding the oncoming horde. Adjusting his glasses, Mousse could just barely make out that, in addition to the figures charging across the rooftops, there were also quite a few swarming through the skies. "They have fliers," the hidden weapons master noted, to which Cologne's only reply was a small nod.

On the ground below them the citizens were in a state of mounting panic, screaming and fleeing from the demonic army's advance. The only thing keeping the situation from dissolving into complete pandemonium were the Joketsuzoku warriors, who were forcing some semblance of order on the hurried evacuation. They rushed to and fro, barking orders, shoving people along as they fought to clear the area.

"Well," Cologne said at last. "Son-in-law certainly seems to have stirred the hornet's nest. Our enemy has been drawn out, just as expected."

Mousse gave a soft snort. "He may have succeeded too well. There must be at least a thousand of them coming at us. If the youma we've fought so far have been any indication, most of our warriors wouldn't be able to take them even one-on-one, and these outnumber us ridiculously."

"We will do as much as we can," was Cologne's calm reply. "The rest is for fate to decide."

"Then I hope fate is feeling generous to us today..." mumbled the hidden weapons master. He glanced around as he spoke, searching for any sign of Shampoo. _She was supposed to rejoin us after she had finished helping Saotome set up. Where is she?_

Under most other circumstances, Mousse would have been agitated at the thought. He would have worried that she had remained behind to make passes at her supposed groom, without him to interfere.

But this time he had no such feelings. As he watched the oncoming horde, fingering some of his weapons inside his sleeves, he knew that—even if it _was_ with Saotome—he wanted nothing more than for Shampoo to be far, far away from this place.

* * *

Akane ran for all she was worth, looking back and forth as she raced down the street. There was no sign of Beneda or Kodachi anywhere. She, Ukyo and Shampoo had all split up to have a better chance of _someone_ finding the youma and the psychotic gymnast. But the harsh truth was that they could have run in any direction, and the more she searched, the more she was reminded of how hopelessly _big_ this city was.

Soon she rounded a corner, and caught sight of the reason she had volunteered to search in this particular direction. The Kuno home loomed in front of her, one of the few places they knew where Kodachi might be heading. Akane did not slack her pace, but charged straight for the main gate, taking the steps leading up to it in a single bound, and kicking it in. _No time to waste—if she's here, I need to find her fast!_

The gate was ripped clean out of its frame, flipping and bouncing into the yard beyond. Akane dashed through, alert for any attack. But there was nothing—at least, not at first.

A few seconds later, though, she heard the sound of pounding footsteps, and then Kuno Tatewaki came charging into view, bokken held at the ready. He skidded to a halt when he saw who it was, his eyes widening. "Akane!"

"Oh, Upperclassman Kuno!" the girl replied, affecting a wide-eyed, pleading look. "Do you know where your sister is? It's really important! She stole something, and I really, _really_ need it back right away!"

Inwardly, Akane was grinding her teeth a little at having to butter up the older boy like that, but considering the circumstances she had no other choice. She had taken this part of the search exactly because she was the person most likely to prompt cooperation from Kuno in a sudden invasion of his home, rather than antagonism.

And the enamored kendoist did not disappoint her. "Of... of course!" he proclaimed, switching mental gears as fast as he could. "Come, my beloved Akane! We shall search for my sister together!"

The youngest Tendo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was quite obvious that "together" was the operative word in that last sentence, as far as Kuno was concerned. Still, she could endure it if it meant help searching this place, especially from someone who lived here.

"All right, then," she said. "Let's find her."

* * *

The Darkmistress leapt from rooftop to rooftop, the DD Girls following close behind. Jadeite was flying along to her left, Marceat beside him, and all of them were surrounded by the horde of lesser youma.

_This will be it_, she thought as she ran. _We have committed ourselves. We must strike them down here, or lose everything. There will be no more second chances._

Her bloodlust rising with each move she made, she looked ahead toward their destination off in the distance. It would not be long now, not at the rate they were going. Then they would obliterate whatever defenses those "Dark Lords" had with their overwhelming numbers, and stop them from—

The Darkmistress whirled, her finely honed danger sense screaming a desperate warning. For half an instant she saw nothing... and then, in what seemed to her like slow motion, a wave of arrows shot up into view from behind the buildings to their right, arcing through the air to hiss down onto the youma army in a rain of death.

Most of them were caught flat-footed. The Darkmistress saw a youma just in front of her go down with an arrow through her throat, disintegrating as she fell, while another took arrows through the arm and shoulder. The Darkmistress, forewarned as she had been, snatched three arrows out of the air with contemptuous ease, snapping them and tossing them to one side.

_"Enemies attacking!"_ cried out Marceat, the youma's voice edged with panic. Her arms began gesticulating wildly as she shouted orders, trying to be heard over the screams of pain rising up from the wounded. "All youma face right, enemies hidden to the ri—"

_"No!"_ roared the Darkmistress, cutting Marceat off with a blow that drove her to the ground, as she sensed what was really going on. "Right flank right, _left flank left!_ All youma with barriers, shield, shield, _shield!_"

The force of her voice cut through the chaos, spurring the army to action. The youma called on their powers, causing a mish-mash of impromptu defenses to spring into existence along both edges of the horde. Some were energy barriers, some were walls of stone, some writhing meshes of vine, along with countless other variations. Once again, a swarm of arrows rose up from behind the buildings to their right...

...followed immediately by an identical swarm of arrows from behind the buildings to their left. The Darkmistress smiled. If they had treated the first attack as the only threat, the second would have caught them from behind, throwing their attempt at a defense into further disarray. As it was, while some arrows managed to make it through the hastily-constructed screen, many more were intercepted on both sides.

_An ambush..._ thought the Darkmistress bitterly. _They must have hidden from our fliers inside these buildings when they went overhead, and then jumped out at just the right moment to make their attack._

To her left, Jadeite was turning angrily toward her, no doubt wishing to reassert command of his forces—which _she_ had just given orders to. She paid him no direct attention, and instead simply shifted her weight, to "accidentally" bump her elbow into his chest with a small _thud_. The General's face twisted into a grimace of pain as his many broken bones made known their objections to being handled in such a way. Anything he might have said was conveniently lost.

_A shame I can't just kill him,_ the Darkmistress thought. _But it wouldn't be wise in the midst of an army of his own troops. Still, if I keep him out of the fight, everyone will know that it was I who led the Dark Kingdom to victory._

And she would use his own troops to do it.

With that settled, she raised her voice once more. "Signal the fliers to swing back!" she shouted. "Have them make a strafing run to disrupt the enemy fire. Infantry, prepare for a full advance on both flanks as soon as the arrows stop! _Kill them all!_"

* * *

From their perch on the roof of Furinkan High, Ranma and Ryouga watched as the youma army faltered in its charge toward them under a hail of arrows. "Hah!" exclaimed Ranma. "Looks like the Joketsuzoku decided to crash our party. I was wondering where Mousse had gone off to..."

"Well if they want to pick a fight with that army, they're welcome to it," grumbled Ryouga. He wasn't quite as sanguine about this as Ranma seemed to be; he hadn't forgotten that the Joketsuzoku intended to kill Beneda just as much as the Dark Kingdom did. Still, it was certainly a welcome development overall. "Now any bright ideas on how we're going to salvage _our_ plan?"

Ranma shook his head. "Not yet," he admitted. "For now, our best bet is just to stick to the script, and hope that the girls find Kodachi in time. Wherever she is..."

* * *

Mousse watched from his hiding place inside a store doorway as the swarm of airborne youma that had been flying point for the army began to bank around, swinging back toward where the Joketsuzoku were firing at the main force. Just as Loofah had predicted. Which meant that his own part in this was about to begin.

He turned, looking at the fifteen Joketsuzoku warriors that were also part of this squad, each hiding in their own place of concealment. They were some of the best markswomen of the entire tribe, and he wondered idly if any of them disdained having to go into battle partnered with a male such as him. If they did, no sign of it showed in their faces. While tradition did hold that the role of warrior was a woman's role, they had all been given this task by the elders, and they all knew their duty.

Besides, they also knew how skilled he was. And really, for the Joketsuzoku, that counted more than anything.

Their leader, a short, weathered warrior in her mid-forties, signaled for them to get ready. In response, all fifteen women unslung the massive bows that they carried on their backs, bows that most humans would be completely unable to even draw. The warriors pulled back the strings with ease, notching their arrows. Some of the more accomplished even notched two or three at a time.

"Fire after they pass over," the leader said softly. "They'll be more vulnerable to an attack from the rear. Make the most of the element of surprise."

One of the nearby women looked over at Mousse, a curious expression on her face. "Don't you have a bow, Mu Si?" she whispered.

The corner of Mousse's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "I'm going to take a more... direct approach," he replied.

And then the cloud of youma was overhead, flying relentlessly toward the Joketsuzoku positions. Mousse ducked his head instinctively. Their leader raised her hand, gauging the exact right moment... and then brought it down in a sharp chopping motion.

The Joketsuzoku began to fire as rapidly as they could, the arrows slicing up through the air to strike their targets. Even at this distance Mousse could hear the screams as youma began to fall from the sky, many of them crumbling to dust on the way down. The force of their attack fractured, as they scrambled to defend themselves from the new threat.

In the instant the first arrows were launched, Mousse too launched himself. He burst forward out of concealment, racing down the street, following the course of the flying youma. Then he jumped into the air, rebounding off one of the building walls, and hurled himself at one of the lower fliers, a winged, harpy-like creature.

She saw him coming at the last second, and swung a claw at his throat. Mousse managed to catch her wrist, using the grip to yank himself toward her and drive a knee into her face. She reeled, their flight path becoming erratic as they weaved drunkenly back and forth through the air, grappling with each other.

Soon, Mousse managed to flip himself behind her, planting his foot onto her back and launching himself further skyward. As a parting gift, he hurled down a knife as he rose, burying it deep between the youma's shoulder blades and sending her spiraling earthward as she disintegrated.

The arrows of his fellow warriors were hissing past him on either side, but the monsters were no longer off-guard, and were starting to dodge or deflect them. Still, Mousse made full use of his comrades' support. The next youma he reached, he didn't even bother striking down himself. Instead, he simply kicked off her blocking arms, angling their collision such that she was knocked straight into the path of one of the arrows, while he propelled himself further upward.

The hidden weapons master continued his deadly ascent, ricocheting from youma to youma, doing his best to set up targets for the warriors below, even as his weapons struck out at his own targets. It was like climbing a huge, swirling staircase, with the stairs turning to dust as he leapt off of them. He rocketed upward, higher and higher, piercing right through the thick of them, until with a final leap he burst above the seething mass of enemies.

In that brief moment, from that height, he could see the entire battlefield spread out beneath him, the combatants on the ground looking like tiny ants. The two main Joketsuzoku groups attacking the youma main force had already split into many smaller squads, spreading out to chip away at the Dark Kingdom horde from many different angles.

Then he felt his upward velocity diminish as he reached the very apex of his jump, an instant of perfect weightlessness suspended above the savage combat below. He twisted gracefully around, reaching deep into his sleeves. _Now..._ he thought. _Let's see how well you can dodge from both above and below at the same time..._

And then his hands lashed out, blurring to hurl projectile after projectile as he fell.

* * *

The Darkmistress snarled as she watched the aerial battle. _That white-robed one again..._ she thought, remembering his part in her failure to secure a prisoner the first time she had attacked. And it seemed that he was continuing that habit of interference here, as he rained steel death down on her fliers.

And—far worse than the casualties themselves—the sudden attack from the rear had broken the fliers' formation. They were dodging, they were evading, they were trying to protect themselves. In short, they were _not_ attacking the enemies harassing the main Dark Kingdom force.

That, in turn, had given their foes time to maneuver, and already the arrows were coming from more angles than just two now. They were splitting their forces into smaller teams. It would be guerilla tactics, just as she had feared. The attackers would not offer a head-on fight... but if ignored they would steadily bleed the army dry.

_I need to finish this quickly, no matter the cost,_ the youma thought, desperation starting to tint her thoughts just a little. _I can't afford to get bogged down here; I have to stop that ritual!_ Taking a deep breath, she barked out orders. "Prepare to advance on all flanks! Each time we start to take fire from an area, send three platoons of youma into it, and stand by to reinforce with greater numbers if they put up resistance!"

Then she turned, leveling a finger at the distant, white-robed figure, who was still dancing through the air from youma to youma, weapons flashing. "And send some massed fire up at him as well. I want that one _dead_."

* * *

Her breath coming in quick pants, her short ponytail bouncing furiously as she ran, Balm raced along her assigned path. Her heart was hammering in her chest; at thirteen years of age, she had only recently had her coming of age ceremony, and this was the first real battle she had ever participated in. Her hands gripped tightly to the sword she wore—an old family heirloom, handed down from her mother.

In seconds she caught sight of her goal, a group of about thirty of her fellow Joketsuzoku who were firing arrows over the edge of a nearby building and out of sight. "Orders from Liu Fa!" the young girl panted. "They're about to counter-attack. Retreat for two blocks that way, and re-form!"

The older warriors nodded curtly and began to fall back—but they had hardly even begun before a wave of youma burst over the rooftop and into view, spilling down to fill the narrow street. The humans continued to fall back, while shooting one more volley into the oncoming youma before drawing their melee weapons. Some of the targets fell, but many more managed to block the arrows.

And then the enemy was on them. The tide of youma crashed against the Joketsuzoku line, driving it back as the humans fought a desperate defensive action. Steel blades flashed, striking against the countless bizarre body-weapons that the monsters wielded.

Balm saw one of the warriors go down, struck in the chest by a youma with sledgehammer-like fists. The monster cackled victoriously, raising its arms for a killing blow—and without thinking, Balm drew her own sword and leaped in to stand over her fallen comrade.

The youma's eyes widened a little in surprise, looking down at her new, significantly smaller opponent, but she quickly adjusted her swing to target Balm's head. The girl barely managed to get her sword up in time to parry, and although she managed to deflect the attack, the sheer force still tore the weapon from her hands.

Another blow was already swinging in at her before she had recovered from the first. The girl's breath caught in her throat, her hands too far out of position to even attempt a block—

—and what happened next was eerily reminiscent of how the youma had knocked Balm's sword away. Except in this case, it was the youma's _arm_ that went flying off. The tiny body of Soap had shot down from the rooftops at the last moment, appearing between the two combatants in the blink of an eye.

The youma screamed, staggering backward, only to have Soap finish her by driving her walking stick through her chest. The ancient master then ripped it free, executing a flurry of slashes so fast that the only thing Balm's eyes could see was an occasional flicker. The next instant, every single youma within the stick's radius exploded simultaneously into dust.

Soap followed that by spinning her cane, driving the tip into the cement at her feet. Cracks began to race out from that point in a wide arc in front of her, and then with a battle cry, she channeled a massive surge of ki through her weapon. That entire section of the road erupted, cement shrapnel shooting straight upward like a thousand knives, shredding any youma unlucky enough to be caught in it.

No sooner had Soap delivered the attack than she sprang back to the rooftops again, no doubt racing off to assist other Joketsuzoku groups. The warriors she had left, for their part, used the respite to continue their pull-back, grabbing their wounded and moving as fast as they could in the direction Loofah had ordered.

The monsters soon regrouped and gave chase, trampling over the bodies of their wounded left by Soap's technique. The Joketsuzoku were in full flight now, trying to reach their assigned position before they were overrun. By the time they got there, the youma had caught up with them again, screaming with rage as they charged the beleaguered force—

—and then the windows of the storefronts all along both sides of that street burst outward, more Joketsuzoku appearing in them with their bows drawn. Their arrows caught the mass of youma in a lethal crossfire, breaking the momentum of their charge and throwing them into confusion. This allowed Balm's squad to regroup, adding their own supporting fire against the now triply-flanked Dark Kingdom detachment.

Balm herself, however, was already gone from that part of the conflict, racing back through the streets to the building from which Loofah was orchestrating their battle plan.

The young girl burst through the doors into what had once been a small beauty parlor, but which the Joketsuzoku had now claimed for their use. "Your trap worked!" she gushed, still filled with the sharp, adrenaline-fueled rush that came from surviving what should have been certain death.

Loofah gave a wry smile, and Balm knew that the elder had not needed to be told that. The ancient, one-armed warrior was legendary for her battle vision, having honed her ability to sense presences to an unbelievable degree, to the point of being able to track the entire flow of a conflict with perfect accuracy, even across astonishing distances. She had doubtless known of the trap's success the moment it had occurred.

"Excellent," the crippled master said. "But they won't be able to hold that position long once the Dark Kingdom reinforces that front. Have them scatter, and then regroup over at Phoenix point. I'll lead another group of youma in that direction for them to attack from behind."

The orders already memorized, Balm gave a quick nod, and then raced back to deliver the latest strategy.

* * *

Mousse plummeted earthward, the wind tearing at him, the sky around him thick with blurring projectiles of all shapes and kinds. Arrows fired by his allies interweaved with shots fired by the youma horde, both from their fliers swarming around him and the ranks of soldiers shooting up at him from the ground. At such a distant range, the youma below were not terribly accurate, but the sheer volume of fire that they vomited up at him made them the greatest threat, flooding the sky and endangering friend and foe alike.

It was chaos. Pure, unmitigated chaos.

The hidden weapons master held a sword in one hand, whipping it around himself in an intricate, barely-followable defensive pattern, deflecting away countless attacks while twisting and contorting his body around others. The force of the more potent impacts rattled his arm, giving off showers of sparks and dissonant shrieks of strained metal. Soon he had to discard his damaged blade, hurling it at a circling flier who just barely managed to dodge, while simultaneously snapping out a replacement from his other sleeve.

The airborne youma had begun to recover from the surprise attack Mousse's group had made on them. The monsters had taken losses, but they were counterattacking now, against Mousse in the air, as well as against the other Joketsuzoku positions. The young warrior looked down, and saw a formation of six fliers making a strafing run on a building where two of his team's markswomen had taken cover.

_Turning your backs on me to attack them?_ thought Mousse, as he tucked his free hand into his sleeve, pulling out a wicked throwing knife between each finger. _Not a good choice._ The weapons shot from his hand in silver streaks, two of the knives taking their targets through the throat. The third, however, managed to sense the attack and swerve desperately out of its path.

Then Mousse caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He swung his sword around just in time to block, as a winged youma with the head of a lion crashed right into him, her paws almost gutting him. The force of the strike sent him pinwheeling away—and then he had to wrench his sword over his head and straight behind his back to stop the swing of yet another flying youma, this one with an actual sword of her own.

The two blades locked, and lion-head was already diving in for another go at him. Mousse's hand shot straight up, disgorging a slew of ropes and chains that ensnared a youma flying directly above him. He held on, letting her yank him off in a completely unexpected direction as he dangled beneath her.

The youma with the sword flew after him, intent on cutting him in half... only to have a Joketsuzoku arrow bury itself right between her eyes, snapping her head back. She exploded into dust a moment later, and Mousse used that as a smokescreen, hurling a huge harpoon right through her remains and impaling the charging lion-head youma, sending her to follow her comrade.

Above, the youma who was dragging Mousse through the air was fighting frantically to untangle herself from his chains, while the youma on the ground were already adjusting their aim to his sudden dodge. The hidden weapons master smiled, then began to rapidly climb the chains, swinging back and forth around some attacks while twisting the chains themselves to block others.

He was intent on reclaiming some of the altitude he had lost. The youma above him would make a nice start.

* * *

Akane tore through Kodachi's room for what was now the second time, searching everywhere, but with no result. In her frustration she grabbed hold of Kodachi's bed and upended it, sending crashing against the wall, but no gymnasts were concealed under it, no clues, _nothing_.

_She's not here._ Akane and Kuno had searched the house from top to bottom, checking all the secret hiding places that Kuno knew of, without success. Wherever the delusional girl had run off to, it didn't seem to have been her house.

Kuno was watching her, looking a little surprised at the violence of her search, but Akane barely paid him any attention. Her thoughts were occupied by worries about Ranma if they couldn't find the bowl, and worries about Beneda if they couldn't find her. Could she really hold her own against Kodachi? How far would the gymnast really go in the service of her obsession? Akane wasn't sure, and that uncertainty scared her.

"My fair Akane..." Kuno began, his voice hesitant. "Perhaps my sister has chosen another location in which to hide with this item of yours—no doubt fearing my righteous wrath once I learned of the wrong done to you. We should both make a careful search of some other location. Perhaps... you would accompany me to search one of the nearby ice cream shops? My sister may well be there..."

The youngest Tendo ignored the pitiful attempt to hit on her, looking instead at the clock on the wall of the room. Shampoo had told them, before splitting up to search, that if they had found nothing after three o'clock they should return to Furinkan—that she had another plan.

The Chinese girl hadn't given any hints as to what that plan might be, but it was almost that time, and it was slowly sinking in for Akane how fruitless this all was. There was just too much ground to cover, now that the trail had been lost. Kodachi could be _anywhere_ by now, and they didn't even have the first clue on what direction to start looking.

She turned back to Kuno. "I... I have to go," she told him. "But if your sister does come back here, please get that bowl back from her at all costs, and bring it to Furinkan High. It's _really_ important!"

The kendoist frowned. "But... what is the reason for all this concern? If there is any trouble you face, do not hesitate to tell me. I can accompany you, and smite any that dare to—"

_"No!"_ Akane blurted. The last thing she wanted was Kuno coming back with her. Who knew how _he_ would react to seeing the details of Ranma's plan? They already had one lunatic from his family to contend with, and they didn't need to risk another one making it even more of a mess. "No I'm... perfectly fine, really. There's no need to worry. I just... really have to go!"

And with that, she turned and darted away as fast as she could.

* * *

Kuno stood alone in the ransacked remains of his sister's room, turned upside-down by the searching of his fierce tigress Akane. Ah, it had been breathtaking to witness her passion so displayed!

But that was not the issue at hand. Despite her protestations otherwise, Kuno was certain that she had been worried—certain that she was in need of his rescue! True, she had told him not to follow her... but that was obviously just out of concern for him. Oh, how his heart warmed to see her love for him displayed in such a way!

Nevertheless, he knew what he had to do. Above all else, his place in such a crisis was at her side, defending her. There was no higher priority, her concern for him notwithstanding.

His decision reached, he drew his bokken dramatically and set off to search after her. She had mentioned Furinkan High just now. That would be a good place to begin.

* * *

The Darkmistress cursed under her breath as her eyes swept across the battlefield, listening to the screams and crashes, watching the volleys of projectiles crisscrossing through the air from all different locations to all different targets.

_It's as though I'm trying to fight smoke!_ she raged inwardly. The enemy was hounding her forces mercilessly. Appear and disappear. Hit and fade. Every seeming advantage leading into another trap. While few of these warriors seemed as strong as the average youma in a direct fight, it was becoming clear that Jadeite's horde didn't have a _tenth_ of their discipline, coordination or intelligence.

And the enemy commander knew it, too. Everything about this battle had been set up to maximize their foe's strengths and minimize their weaknesses. They had laid their ambush in a part of the city packed with shops and stores, the streets all narrow and intersecting, with few clear spaces. It was a tactical nightmare to try and employ their massive numbers down there, but ideal for the small, fast-moving teams opposing them to make vicious strikes, then vanish into the maze of buildings.

Not to mention those horrifyingly powerful little crones that kept popping up in the worst possible places...

The Darkmistress was sure that, given enough time, they could wear down their opponents. But time was the very thing they were short on. She turned to Jadeite, who was glaring daggers at her. "We need a new plan," she told him, ignoring his fury. "This is taking too much time. If they complete their ritual, all is lost!"

"Well, what do you suggest?" spat Jadeite.

"They must have sent most of their current forces to delay us," was the Darkmistress's reply. "If that's the case, their actual base may be vulnerable—relatively speaking. If we could send a strike team on ahead, past their lines, they may be able to stop the summoning while the main enemy force is kept occupied here."

Jadeite's lip twisted... but eventually he gave a grudging reply. "The fliers would have the easiest time disengaging," he told her. "But most of their air speeds aren't fast enough. Those archers would follow if they tried to make a run for it, and kill them all the way there. I doubt many would make it."

"_My_ fliers are more than capable of breaking away," the Darkmistress said, gesturing toward where the DD Girls stood in a protective half-circle behind her. "And if you can open up another gate for at least two, you and I should be able to make it there as well."

Jadeite grimaced, though whether that was from the thought of cooperating with her, or from the thought of expending the power necessary to create yet another gate in his condition, she could not say. Probably both. But he acquiesced in the end. "Very well. Let's do it."

The corpse-like youma turned to her five bodyguards, and gave a curt nod. They responded by shooting straight up into the air with dizzying velocity, then exploding into blurs of motion toward their target, vanishing into the distance before any of their foes had a chance to target them.

With that, the Darkmistress turned her gaze back to Jadeite... just in time to see him vanish from sight. Not into a gate as he had agreed, but into the purple glow of his personal teleportation. She screamed in rage, her hand lashing out in a futile attempt to grab him, but she was far too late, and she only clutched air.

For a few moments she could only stand there, trembling with barely-suppressed hatred, as she imagined everything she would do to Jadeite once she caught up with him. He had no intention of sharing credit for the victory with her. He was leaving her trapped in this quagmire, while he was going to actually defeat these foes.

And he would use her own troops to do it!

* * *

Jadeite allowed himself a superior smile, as he materialized a short distance away from Furinkan High. Just how stupid did that youma think he was? Go into enemy territory, injured and alone, except for her and five of her most powerful fighters? He knew full well how _that_ would end for him, once they had beaten these Dark Lords, and he had no desire to expose himself to "accidental" death due to "friendly" fire.

Yet even so, he was not altogether pleased with the necessity of leaving her behind. He knew the power he would be facing in that school, and he knew his own weakened state. Despite his personal hatred for the Darkmistress, he actually would have preferred to have her strength backing him up, even if it did mean sharing the credit with his enemy.

But the near-certainty that she would turn on him made it too much of a risk, and so he had made his decision. Better to trap her into fighting the army back there, using her power to keep those foes busy. He would have to make do with what he had... and hope that it was enough.

Not that he was free from danger from the youma he hoped to use. The DD Girls themselves were the Darkmistress's subordinates, and therefore dangerous to him as well. He would have to play this very carefully.

Even as he pondered, he caught sight of the five winged youma rocketing in from the southeast. They immediately swooped down, landing in a circle around him. "Where is our mistress?" the blonde one, Modra, demanded.

Jadeite crossed his arms. "The gate I tried to open was even more unstable than the last one," he told them calmly. "Too dangerous for even just two to use. I came here through personal teleportation instead. Your mistress will rejoin us once she breaks through the enemy lines with the rest of the army."

The DD Girls hesitated, glancing back and forth between each other, clearly suspicious of what he was saying. But Jadeite could see that his gamble had paid off. He had no doubt that these youma would attack him in a heartbeat if the Darkmistress gave them a specific order to... but making a decision of that magnitude, to oppose one of Beryl's chosen, was not something they could do on their own initiative.

He utterly outranked the five of them, and until they actually received a direct counter-order from their leader, they would have to play along with that. And the urgency of the situation made it impossible for them to go back and get that confirmation. They were trapped by necessity into following his commands.

"Now..." he said, rolling right over any other questions or objections they might have had. "I will be assuming full control over this battlefield, per my authority as one of the Four Generals. Our first priority is to locate where the enemy is holed up. Then we—"

He broke off suddenly, realizing that the DD Girls had suddenly shifted, and that they were looking past him at something off in the distance. Puzzled, he glanced over his shoulder to look as well.

There, hopping over the rooftops, still a ways off but drawing nearer and nearer, were the colorful, fuku-clad forms of the Sailor Senshi.

The Dark General watched them approach for a long moment, then turned back to the youma. "Then again..." he said. "Before that, there is something else we should do first..."

* * *

Sailor Moon's thoughts were in near-complete disarray as she leapt from building to building, trying to process everything that was going on without dissolving into a state of complete panic.

Before these past few days, her entire experience of fighting evil had been limited to straightforward battles, usually against only one or two opponents. But now things were spiraling out of control faster than she could even begin to keep up with. There was an all-out _war_ going on behind them, and based on what they'd learned from the hostage, the whole world could be doomed any minute now, unless they managed to stop it from happening.

Feeling in over her head was scarcely new for Sailor Moon... but this was taking it to levels that she could scarcely believe. One thought was running through her mind like a mantra. _What are we going to do? What are we going to do? What are we going to—_

Her frantic train of thought was interrupted as, with a flash of purple light, Jadeite materialized right in their path.

The Senshi skidded to a stop, Sailor Moon fumbling for her tiara. Even as they tried to adjust, five winged youma shot into view, taking up positions surrounding the three girls.

Sailor Mars slammed her hands together, ready to unleash her fire at a moment's notice. Sailor Mercury, likewise, was preparing to give them some cover. Sailor Moon wound up, trying to pick the most likely target for her to throw her weapon at—

—and then Jadeite raised his hands, palms outward, in a gesture of non-violence. _"Wait!"_ he shouted, clearly unhappy. "Listen to me! I don't want to fight you right now—or that accursed guardian of yours, wherever he's hiding!"

Startled, the Senshi hesitated in each of their respective motions. Luna was the first of the group to recover. "You expect us to believe that?" she shot back.

The Dark General's lip twisted. "Yes!" he snapped. "I expect you to believe it, because we don't have any choice! You aren't the only ones who know what those Dark Lords are trying to accomplish here. I know there will be many chances to kill you annoyances in the future. But unless those two are stopped _now_, before they can finish their ritual... it will be the end. For both our sides!"

The declaration boggled Sailor Moon, and it looked like she wasn't the only one. Sailor Mars spoke up, her voice suspicious. "So... you're suggesting a truce?"

Jadeite ground his teeth. "I'm suggesting that we pool our efforts," he bit out. "If we fight each other, it will only end like it did last time. The only sane course of action is to concentrate on the greatest threat. You want to save the world, don't you? And we don't want anyone else claiming it."

The Senshi and Luna exchanged glances. Jadeite was probably about the least trustworthy person they could imagine... and yet he had an undeniable point. Based on the previous fight, it was highly uncertain whether either team could win alone.

But together...

Sailor Mercury spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think that this may be a risk we have to take," she told her friends. "And we don't have time to waste, either. Every _second_ may be crucial."

"I... don't like this..." muttered Luna under her breath. "But... I like the alternative even less." Then she spoke up, to where the Dark Kingdom forces could hear. "You have a deal. Just make sure you remember what you said about infighting destroying us all, Jadeite."

The Dark General's face grew clouded. "Don't worry," he told them. "I need no reminders of how dangerous these opponents are." Then he spun, levitating back toward the high school. "If you've decided, then come—our enemies await." With more than a few extremely awkward looks passing between its members, the combined Senshi and Dark Kingdom assault group followed quietly in his wake.

After a few moments, Luna addressed the Senshi in an undertone. "Listen to me. You girls _must_ be on your guard at all times for any treachery from them. Even if we need each other for now, that may change quickly if our side starts to get the upper hand. Be careful."

The Senshi all nodded, and Luna continued. "I'm going to stay by Jadeite, wherever he goes, and keep an eye on him. If there's a decision to betray us in the middle of the battle, he'll probably be the one making it. I'll try to give you girls as much warning as I can."

Sailor Moon quailed a little. "But..." she said. "But what if he just attacks you first?"

"That's a risk I'll have to take," replied the moon cat grimly. "Besides... I was watching him as he was talking to us. I think that part of the reason he's this desperate for help is because he's injured from the last fight. If that's the case, that would improve my chances of surviving long enough to warn you."

The last sentence filled Sailor Moon with dismay, but Sailor Mercury was already speaking. "He _is_ injured. Very." Tilting her hand, she surreptitiously showed them the screen of her Mercury Computer, on which was a diagram of Jadeite's body. "I noticed the same thing you did, so I scanned him. And as mangled as he is, I'm astonished that he's able to _move_, let alone fight."

"All right. Then it's settled," Luna said, in a tone that brooked no dissent. "This is our best chance to stop the world from being overrun. At all costs, we must succeed!"

* * *

As Jadeite flew, the leader of the DD Girls, Modra, swerved in alongside him. "So..." she whispered. "I assume that we should be watching for any chances for the Senshi to 'accidentally' die during the course of the battle?"

The Dark General rounded on her. "Absolutely not!" he growled quietly. "Do you think I fear those little _girls_ back there so much as to lower my chances against these enemies? Even weaklings like them may tip the balance at a crucial moment—as long as they fight _for_ us. Your absolute first priority is to stop that ritual—allow nothing to jeopardize that!"

Modra pouted for a few seconds. Then she spoke again. "But... once these Dark Lords have been defeated..."

Jadeite looked at her like one would look at a particularly stupid child. "Yes, of _course_ once they're defeated we immediately turn on the Senshi and kill them all. But only _after_ we're certain that the real foes have been completely destroyed. Until then, we take no action against our... allies. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir..." said the youma, resentment still bubbling in her voice. "Perfectly clear."

* * *

Beneda ran down the street, her lungs burning from the protracted sprint. Ahead, hopping along the rooftops above her, Kodachi was still far in the lead, still laughing that hideous, taunting laugh. The bowl was still clutched tightly under her arm.

The gymnast didn't even appear particularly tired.

_Got... to catch... her somehow..._ Beneda thought. _Everyone... in danger... if I don't._ But there seemed no way; the gap between them wasn't getting any smaller, while Beneda doubted she could keep this pace up much longer.

Lifting her arm, the youma fired two shurikens at the fleeing gymnast, aiming for her legs. It was futile; Kodachi simply whipped out her ribbon, swatting the projectiles out of the air with ease.

Gritting her teeth, Beneda continued to fire, not knowing what else to do, hoping for a lucky shot. _I... can't... fail them... I can't!_

* * *

The Darkmistress stalked up and down the lines of her main force, protected from the harrying attacks of their foes by the rows of shields that the youma were still maintaining around their main force. It kept their army from being whittled into nothingness, providing a safe haven from which to launch their forays.

Yet it was a costly blessing. Without the barriers, the hit-and-run tactics would be taking a far more grevious toll... but the main force could not move with any speed while still maintaining them. With each moment that went by, the Darkmistress saw less and less chance of being able to punch through with the army and claim the victory herself. _Damn Jadeite,_ she thought. _Damn him to all the hells that ever were!_

At this point, she realized her best chance was simply to abandon Jadeite's minions here, and try to reach Furinkan High herself. Slipping out through the heat of battle would be extremely dangerous, of course, but it would be worth it if she could get there in time to snatch the General's accomplishment from his wretched fingers.

A short jump sent her to the highest point of the highest rooftop that the youma occupied. From there, her eyes swept across the raging battlefield, searching for a hole that she could exploit to escape through. She carefully scrutinized every inch of the terrain...

...and then she frowned, puzzled by a strange sight. Off in the distance, away from the battle zone, another human figure could be seen leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Details were difficult to see... but it seemed to be female, wearing a skintight black leotard, swinging around what appeared to be a long ribbon.

The Darkmistress squinted, trying to make out more of what was going on. What was that human doing? Could she be related to the ones attacking them? She looked almost as though she were fighting someone, but who—

—and then the corpse-like youma's eyes widened, as she saw a large shuriken shoot up from behind one of the buildings.

The human girl deflected it, but the implications were already exploding through the Darkmistress's mind. That shuriken! Could it have been...? It was impossible to tell for certain at that distance, but she didn't for a moment believe that it was just a coincidence.

_At their very moment of triumph, they send the youma they stole from us to chase a human girl I do not even recognize,_ the Darkmistress thought, trying desperately to piece it all together. _Why? What is going on here? There must be something we're missing—some crucial part of their plan we don't understand yet!_

She knew that she had little time before her only lead to this was lost, and she made a snap decision. "Prepare for another attack!" she shouted. "I want another three platoons, charging the enemy in that direction!"

It wasn't a smart move from the standpoint of the battle; considering the forces the enemy had nearby, it wouldn't be difficult for their commander to slaughter the youma that the Darkmistress had sent. But the extra confusion, drawing forces to that precise area, would help her chances of slipping through a few blocks down.

And then she would see just what exactly it was they had their youma doing at such a critical time...

* * *

The winding, rocky passageway echoed with the sound of footfalls—crisp, yet unrushed. The surroundings were otherwise vacant; few came to this highly secure section of the Dark Kingdom.

A moment later, the source of the footsteps came into view. He was a man, tall and well-built, dressed in a bluish-grey uniform, with long brown hair cascading down his back. He strode down the tunnel, until he reached a door at the far end. Without hesitation he threw it open, and continued inside.

The two men already waiting there glanced up at his entrance. "Ah, Nephrite!" the closer of the two said, his green eyes dancing with airy mockery. "So good of you to grace us with your presence..."

Nephrite's eyes narrowed. "Don't waste my time, Zoisite," he told the strawberry-blond general. "Why did you call me here?"

"Because there is something _very_ interesting going on right now," was Zoisite's reply. "Particularly interesting for those of us who are forced to wait on the sidelines so long as Jadeite is in command of operations in the human world."

A snort escaped Nephrite. _So this is Zoisite's game. I should have known._ "I have no need to dirty my hands working against Jadeite," he informed the other General, his tone disdainful. "I am quite confident that the fool will ruin his position without help from me. Leave me out of your schemes."

Zoisite shook his head. "No, no, there's no scheme at all!" he insisted. "Look for yourself. You won't believe it unless you see it." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked over to the shallow pool that lay in the center of the room, set into the floor.

As a scrying aid, the pool was notably inferior to something on the scale of Beryl's crystal ball. Nevertheless, it could still view most locations within a hundred-mile radius of the Juuban portal, as long as it was not protected by any wards. As such, it made a respectable surveillance tool. Nephrite walked over, disinterested. Whatever Zoisite wanted to show him, he doubted very much that it would be as interesting as—

Nephrite's eyes went wide, shock overwhelming his composure as he caught sight of the scene that the pool was focusing on. "What in all the hells?" he breathed.

He was looking at a full-scale war raging in the streets of Tokyo. The most obvious group was a huge army of youma, their main force spread across the rooftops, protected by a patchwork array of shields, constantly harried by what appeared to be groups of female humans.

As he watched, the youma forces tried to make multiple sorties, charging after their foes, only to have the humans melt away and others to counterattack those who made the attempt. Those counterattackers were, in turn, set upon by a separate group of youma, who had clearly been waiting for just that opportunity... only to be halted when a single, shriveled human appeared in their path, unleashing astonishing destruction on them.

Then Zoisite's voice intruded on Nephrite's stunned disbelief. "It seems that Jadeite has taken it upon himself to launch an excursion into the human world," he said, stating the obvious.

"Has he lost his _mind?_" Nephrite murmured, still not quite believing what he was seeing. "An attack of this scale, while Metallia is still slumbering... What is he _thinking?_"

"It seems that these new upstarts in Nerima have driven him to desperation somehow," replied Zoisite. "He's been preparing for this move for days, building up his forces in warehouses hidden in the human world. I managed to find one of them, and I've had it monitored ever since. Then, today..." He waved a hand, indicating the conflict playing out before them.

"Whatever his reasons, he had best hope they are convincing." Nephrite shook his head, then turned to leave. "The Queen must hear of this immediately."

At that, Zoisite raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"

The question stopped Nephrite, turning him back to look at the other General, who continued speaking. "Jadeite has, obviously, committed a substantial number of his forces to this assault. Every loss he takes erodes his power base—and his credibility—that much further. And no one knows that _we_ know of this yet. Why not... simply allow his foolishness to take the greatest possible toll on him?"

Nephrite frowned in thought. He had to admit, it was a tempting proposition. It could indeed damage Jadeite, maybe even push him out of the way completely. And it wasn't as though he owed the other General anything.

"Perhaps," he allowed at last. "Then again, if his reason for this undertaking turns out to be sufficient—and the result is a victory—he may be able to play it to his favor regardless. Her Majesty will care more about his success or failure than how many of his youma he lost achieving it."

A low chuckle came from the far end of the room, and Nephrite turned to look at the source: the broad-shouldered, white-haired man who was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. "Then I suppose we will be cheering on the _humans_, this time," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the brown-haired General felt a tiny chill run down his spine. Just as Zoisite was far weaker than Jadeite in combat, and just as Jadeite in turn was weaker than Nephrite, Nephrite knew full well that he could not hope to match the power of Kunzite, the greatest of Beryl's Generals.

He turned back to the scrying pool, determined not to let the slightest bit of fear show through. "Yes," he agreed, watching the battle play out before him. "Yes, I suppose we will..."

_

* * *

Well..._ thought Sailor Mercury, as she surveyed Furinkan High from a block away, along with the rest of her team. _It certainly looks like a normal school on the outside..._

She glanced down at the Mercury Computer, which was showing a scan of the building. To her right, Jadeite looked over her shoulder at the computer's display as well. "Have you found anything yet?" he demanded.

The Senshi shook her head. "I'm not picking up anything that reads like a magical artifact," she said. Then she punched a new set of parameters into the computer, and three pale blue dots sprang into existence. "I am detecting three seemingly-human life signs. One is in the gymnasium area—that one seems to be unconscious. The other two are in the main building. They have phenomenally high life energy readings... and their bodies are imbued with a faint magical aura as well, of some strange kind that the computer doesn't recognize."

She made a few more adjustments, and the dots blinked back out again. "There don't seem to be any youma in the building either."

"Perfect!" Modra slammed her fist into her palm. "They've sent all their forces to attack the main army, and they've left their base wide open! This is our chance. We can take them!"

"Um..." Sailor Moon put forward hesitantly. "Shouldn't we be looking for that magic thingy instead? If we can get rid of all of them by breaking it, then wouldn't that be the easiest way?"

The expression of the blonde DD Girl became scornful. "Your little friend couldn't find it with her computer, could she? If it's shielded that well, it could be anywhere, and we don't have time to waste. There's only two of them. I say we take the fight to them, instead of letting them attack us while we're running around trying to find this bowl." The rest of the DD Girls nodded in agreement.

"You haven't fought those two," Jadeite warned them, his voice dark. "I have. And they shouldn't be underestimated."

"Maybe not, but she is right about one thing. We don't have time," interjected Sailor Mars. "If we happen to find the artifact we'll definitely destroy it... but I think we'll probably have to go through those two to get to it, one way or another."

Luna nodded. "You're probably right. We should make our move, then, and not waste any more time talking about it." Suiting action to words, the cat scampered down the street. Youma, Senshi and a Dark General followed quickly behind her. They all halted at the main entrance in the wall surrounding the school grounds, glancing at each other.

Jadeite cleared his throat. "I... think it would be best for me to remain here for now," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster. "I will continue to try to sense their magical apparatus, as well as provide... coordination and support."

Of course, it was obvious to everyone present—except, perhaps, Sailor Moon—that "coordination and support" was mostly an excuse for staying out of the thick of combat with his debilitating injuries. No one bothered to call him on it.

"I can help with that too," spoke up Luna, her eyes locked intently on the Dark General. "My senses can pick up some magical auras as well, and I can keep in contact with the Senshi on their communicators. "

Jadeite grunted. "If you must," he said, looking down at her, annoyance in his voice. "Probably the least useless place for you, at any rate. It's not as though a mere cat could do much to disrupt their plans herself."

Sailor Mercury frowned at the slight to Luna, but with the world hanging in the balance she knew it really wasn't the time. "All right then," she said at last. "Let's go!"

The Senshi darted through the entrance in the wall, into the school grounds, while the DD Girls simply flew over it, landing on the other side. They slowly fanned out through the inner yard, their senses alert, ready for attackers, traps, anything. They were all ready to launch their attacks at a moment's notice, but nothing disturbed the eerie quiet of the deserted school.

Suddenly there was a squeal of feedback, and then the now-familiar voice of the Dark Lord Ranma could be heard coming across the school's P. A. system. "So... you've finally arrived!" he said mockingly. "Well as the man who's about to be the new ruler of this planet, I welcome all of you..." He stretched out the dramatic pause for as long as he could, before continuing. "...to your _doom! Bwahahahahahaha!_"

* * *

Up in the school office that they had temporarily commandeered, Ryouga shot his rival a sidelong glance, then shook his head disdainfully. "Ham."

Ranma snorted as he put down the microphone. "Oh, like _you're_ one to talk..."

From the yard outside, the lost boy could sense the steadily approaching danger, could sense the eight opponents continuing their incursion, undeterred by Ranma's taunt. He sighed. "Well, I guess now we make a stand of it."

"Pretty much," agreed Ranma. "Let's go."

And with that the two Dark Lords got to their feet, walking out to meet the imminent battle, determined to hold Furinkan High against all comers.

* * *

Beneda's breath was coming in gasps, her muscles screaming in protest as she stumbled into the small wooded park. She was sure she had seen Kodachi duck in here, but she had lost sight of her in all the trees. Where had she gone?

The youma staggered to a halt, doubling over with her hands on her knees as she fought to catch her breath. _This is hopeless..._ she realized bleakly. _There's no way I can catch her, and even if I could, I could never fight her in this condition! What should I do?_

"_Ohohohoho!_" came a grating laugh from behind her. "How pitiful. Tired already?"

Beneda tried to whirl around even as she felt a ribbon coil around her neck, flinging her back through the air and straight at a tree. Pain exploded through her at the impact, and she crumpled to the ground, the world around her spinning in circles.

When she regained her senses, she looked up to see Kodachi standing imperiously over her. "Please... don't imagine for a moment that you were actually fast enough to keep up with me," the gymnast assured her. "I wanted you to follow, so that I could deal with you without the interruption of those other girls. Now, monster, we will discuss what you have been doing with my darling Ranma... and how you were planning to use this item." She held the bowl up to emphasize her point.

Desperate, Beneda tried to reason with the girl one last time. "Kodachi," she blurted out. "You have to believe me! It's not what you're thinking! This isn't a plot to enchant Ranma. The whole thing was his plan all along!"

_"Lies!"_ shouted Kodachi, her vehemence causing Beneda to jerk back. "I know not what deceit or trickery you used to make my Ranma help you with your plan, but with my _own ears_ I heard that Tendo harridan ask the sorcerer boy for a spell that would steal my darling's affections!"

"...yeah, I'm pretty sure she _didn't_ say it the way you're remembering it..." the youma muttered under her breath. At this point, she couldn't decide which seemed the more hopeless course: trying to fight Kodachi into submission, or trying to argue her into sanity.

Kodachi, however, made the decision for her by lashing out again with her ribbon, winding it around Beneda once more. She flung the youma through the air, then slammed her back to earth, sending her tumbling along the ground. Beneda lurched unsteadily to her feet, trying to bring a shuriken to bear, only to be knocked back down as a gymnastics club caught her square in the chest.

"Now," continued Kodachi, with an air of exaggerated patience. "As I was saying. I demand that you tell me _exactly_ how this... bowl... can be used to win my Ranma's heart."

With a groan, Beneda managed to fight herself, inch by inch, back to her hands and knees. _Wh- what am I going to do?_ she wondered. _I'm completely out of my league, and common sense just doesn't get through to her!_

Raising her head, she saw Kodachi standing a ways off, tapping her foot impatiently. Beneda opened her mouth, trying to think of something, _anything_ to say...

...and then she saw something that made her blood freeze in her veins, made her whole body clench in unreasoning terror. Behind Kodachi, she saw the black-robed figure of the Darkmistress leap down from one of the trees, and begin walking toward them.

"K- Kodachi!" Beneda croaked out, the words almost catching in her throat. Then it became a full-force scream. _"Kodachi, behind you!"_

The human threw her head back in a long, haughty peal of laughter. "You'll have to do better than that if you wish to fool the Black Rose," she chided. "Dirty tricks are my specialty, and that is the oldest one there is. Although I _will_ commend you on your acting; for a moment, I almost did think that there might be—"

She was violently cut off as the Darkmistress reached her, delivering a vicious backhand as she walked past, sending the gymnast flying away in a tangle of limbs. The blow caused Kodachi to lose her grip on the bowl as well—which the Darkmistress promptly snatched out of the air.

"Perfect," said the corpse-like youma, with a ghastly smile. "Perfect beyond anything I could have even imagined. Now all the pieces are in my hand..."


	19. Death Duel

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Death Duel

Sailor Mercury darted across the inner grounds of Furinkan High, her fellow Senshi beside her, along with the five youma they had allied with in the face of this greater threat. In moments, they reached the wall of the main building, pausing by the door as they prepared to make their incursion.

The leader of the group—the blonde with the pale blue skin named Modra—turned to look at Sailor Mars, a contemptuous expression on her face. "Are you ready, human?" she asked. "I don't expect much from you... but at least try not to get in our way."

The Senshi of Fire bristled at the words, and Sailor Mercury spoke up as fast as she could, trying to impose some measure of tact on the situation. "We'll all do the best we can, and try to help each other," she said. It sounded horribly pithy even to her own ears, but it was all she could think of. They couldn't afford to erode what precious little cohesion the two teams had.

Still, the insult troubled her, more than it should have. In part, it was because she knew that she herself would be of much less use in this fight than normal. Her one bit of magic was the Shabon Spray, but while the spell would not blind her fellow Senshi, it _would_ obscure the sight of the youma now fighting alongside them... rendering her one direct contribution of dubious value.

She distracted herself from her self-doubt by checking the Mercury Computer once again. "They've moved into one of the hallways," she announced. "Straight in, and the second left. It seems like they're waiting for us."

"Then let's go say 'hello'!" called out Modra, and before Sailor Mercury could say anything further the youma kicked in the doors of the school, flying down the hallway in a blur of color, followed closely by her comrades. The Senshi exchanged a quick glance, then ran after them.

They quickly reached the corner Sailor Mercury had designated, skidding to a stop as they caught sight of the opponents facing them. As expected, it was the two Dark Lords themselves. Ranma and Ryouga, clad in all their gaudy regalia. They stood next to each other, partway down the hall, their arms crossed as they barred the way forward.

Sailor Mercury's breath caught in her throat. This was it. After all the doubts and the worries and investigation and maneuvering, it had all come down to this. With the fate of the world at stake, it would have to be settled here.

Ranma's mouth quirked up in a superior smile. "So, you foolish weaklings... you think teaming up will let you beat us?"

Modra replied with a smile that was nearly identical to Ranma's. "Actually," she said. "It's only Jadeite who thinks that. _I_ think we could have killed you just fine ourselves." Her eyes narrowed. "And now we'll prove it. _Die!_"

And with that, the DD Girls attacked.

It was _fast_, green tentacles exploding out of each of their arms simultaneously, surging toward their targets like a storm of spears. Between the five of them they filled the hallway completely, leaving no room whatsoever to dodge.

The two boys' eyes went wide and they sprang into motion, each diving headlong away from the other, crashing straight through the walls on either side and into the classrooms beyond. The attacks of the DD Girls hissed past, shredding the hem of Ryouga's cape as he just barely avoided it.

Even as the Dark Lords disappeared out of sight, the DD Girls were already moving. Their tentacles retracted as swiftly as they had shot out, and Modra's four subordinates launched themselves down the hall in a square formation—one pair flying high, the other pair low. Their targets were not visible, but they simply fired their tentacles through the wall and raked them along as they flew.

The walls were shredded as they went, and beyond them Sailor Mercury saw that the attack was having a similar effect on everything inside the classrooms. Chairs, desks, school supplies, all of it was ripped apart, filling the air with flying debris.

Then she saw Ranma. The deadly wall of tentacles was crashing toward the dark warrior... and in the brief glimpse she caught of him, Sailor Mercury realized that _he_ was running at _it_ as well. A collision seemed inevitable—

—and then he threw himself to the ground, flattening himself out impossibly as he slid along the rubble-strewn floor. Low as the tentacles reached, he still slipped underneath them. The instant they had passed over he spun back to his feet, grabbing his own antlered helmet in the same motion and hurling it like a boomerang at Modra's head.

Off to the other side, she saw Ryouga deal with the attack as well—by yanking his belt from around his waist and hacking straight through the wall of tentacles with a single, mighty cleave. The youma targeting him howled in pain but continued to fire at him, replacing the damaged appendages without apparent effort. Sailor Mars ran over to support them as well, trying to get a clear shot.

Sailor Mercury also noticed that Ryouga was already breathing hard for so early in the battle, sweat running down his forehead, his skin a somewhat unhealthy pallor.

Back on Ranma's side, the leader of the DD Girls knocked his improvised projectile out of the air with a swing of her fist, snarling as she did so. She followed that with a spray of her own tentacles at the still-charging Ranma. The pigtailed fighter did not slack his pace in the slightest, angling to the side at the last possible second. He slipped just around her attack, whirling into a spin kick that caught the youma right in the side of the head.

She staggered, reeling—even as many more tentacles shot at Ranma from behind. The other two DD Girls originally gunning for him had come around for another try. Ranma leapt straight up, straight over the furious, criss-crossing attacks, then instantly ricocheted off the ceiling to dive at Modra once more.

_"Moon Tiara Action!"_

The glowing disc hurtled in at Ranma from the side. Frantically the dark warrior twisted, contorting his body, and even in mid-leap he managed to get his arm around in time to smash the weapon away in a shower of white sparks.

That allowed Modra to grab him. Tentacles latched onto Ranma, swinging him bodily over her head and slamming him down, hard, into the floor. Then she lifted him, made a thrusting motion, and the tentacles drove Ranma through the air down the entire length of the hallway, crashing him into the wall at the opposite end from where the others were fighting. Before he could recover the youma shifted the grip of her long appendages, winding them around his arms, legs and throat, holding him spread-eagled against the wall while she strangled him.

Despite the pain and asphyxiation Ranma gritted his teeth, fighting against the hold she had on him. Steadily, inch by inch, he forced his arms together, matching his strength against the monster's. The two of them strained and struggled, but at last his hands reached the tentacles around his neck, prying them loose enough to take a gasping breath.

Then she electrocuted him.

Crackling current raged down the length of Modra's appendages, and Ranma screamed when it hit. He jerked and twisted, his body writhing uncontrollably as the youma poured more and more power into him. Sailor Mercury flinched, unable to distance herself entirely from his pain, despite the fact that he was an enemy they needed to stop.

She turned away from the sight, just in time to see Ryouga break away from Sailor Mars and the two youma he had been fighting. He charged toward Modra, ducking and swerving... but all four of the remaining DD Girls were free to focus on him now. He dodged the attacks from the pink and green youma, but the red one managed to hit him from the left, the impact sending him skidding across the floor as her tentacles wrapped around him. The purple youma followed that with an attack of her own, hitting him from behind, and together they hoisted him into the air.

The two of them channeled lightning toward their prey, just as had been done to Ranma... but the dark warrior had already managed to jam one hand up underneath the turban he wore. He ripped out a fistful of yellow-and-black bandannas and hurled them at Modra the instant before the electricity struck him.

_"Look out!"_ Sailor Mercury shouted, as four spinning blades of cloth arced toward the youma. Modra whirled, leaping back, one of them slashing perilously near her throat, but she managed to avoid any damage.

But in doing so she had ceased her own electrical assault on Ranma... and to Sailor Mercury's astonishment, the pigtailed fighter resumed his attack almost immediately. With an angry shout, he forced his still-twitching muscles to wrench himself free of his distracted captor's grasp. Then he kicked off the wall she had been holding him against, launching himself toward her like a human missile.

The two youma not occupied with electrocuting Ryouga tried to intervene, but Ranma was on Modra before they could stop him. He planted his foot, using that to brace himself as he delivered simultaneous punches with each hand, one to her stomach and one to her chest. The impact sent her flying backward—but Ranma caught her by her now-limp tentacles and swung her around, straight into the youma heading toward him.

All three DD Girls were slammed into the nearby wall, allowing Ranma to slip past. He shot down the hall at a terrifying speed, rolling underneath another pass by the Moon Tiara, leaping over a long stream of fire, then using Sailor Mars' head as the base for a handspring that launched him at the youma electrocuting his partner in villainy.

He drove both his feet into the face of the purple one, driving her head back into the wall, then flipped off of her to slam his foot down atop the red youma's head in an aerial axe kick. She went stumbling back, allowing him to pull Ryouga free... even as Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars, and the other three youma closed in again.

Ranma shoved the stunned red youma at their oncoming foes to buy themselves a little time as they scrambled away down the hallway. Or at least, Ranma scrambled. Ryouga tried to regain his footing, but only made it about halfway before crumpling back down on his rump. Ranma had to drag him most of the way, assisted by occasional vague crawling motions from the other boy.

Then Modra shoved the red DD Girl out of their way, and Senshi and youma together unleashed a torrent of firepower down the hallway. Ranma's grabbed Ryouga by the shoulders and leaped for the corner, just barely disappearing around the turn in the hallway before their attacks hit. When the immediate din subsided, Sailor Mercury could hear retreating footsteps racing away.

_We're winning!_ she thought, hope beginning to fill her. _We can do this! We can beat them!_

_

* * *

_

Akane looked anxiously over at Furinkan high from her perch atop a nearby building, as a blast of flame exploded through the wall from the fight raging inside. A pang of worry—for _Ryouga_, she reminded herself sternly, not for that idiot—shot through her. Then she turned back to Ukyo and Shampoo, who were standing next to her. "So what's this plan of yours?"

"Yeah," agreed Ukyo, also looking at Shampoo. "This isn't looking good; Ranchan needs help."

The Joketsuzoku girl nodded. "Shampoo know. Best way is if we find crazy-girl and bowl... but crazy-girl have big head start. No surprise that not work. So must help where make difference. Must make sure Airen not die in this fight."

"All right, then let's go help him!" was Ukyo's response, as she turned to match action to words.

But Shampoo clamped a hand on the other girl's shoulder, halting her. "Wait," she said. "Is not so easy. Must help... but help in way that fit plan Airen make."

The youngest Tendo frowned. "What do you mean?"

A distinctly mischievous glint entered the Chinese girl's eyes, and Akane suddenly felt nervous. "Shampoo think something like this maybe happen, so Shampoo is being prepared," she said, gesturing to three boxes that she had stacked on the roof behind her. Then she walked over to them, picked them up, and handed two of the three to Akane and Ukyo. "Shampoo have these made special, just in case something like this happen." She smiled, schooling her face into the very picture of earnest sincerity. "Is _only way_ to help Ranma!"

Her trepidation mounting, Akane opened the box she had been given.

"Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me!"

* * *

Modra chased after the two Dark Lords as they retreated, awash in the savage exultation of a predator running down her prey. They had forced their adversaries completely on the defensive, and it was only a matter of time before they dealt the final blow.

She snorted. Jadeite was a fool to fear these two so. There had been no need for such an embarrassing alliance with their enemies. She was certain they could have managed fine on their own, and she began to contemplate what opportunities there might be to indulge in a bit of "friendly fire".

"We... should really stay more spread out than this..." came the voice of the Senshi's water mage, a singularly useless creature among useless creatures. "They seem to be strongest at close-quarters combat, while we're strongest at range. If we're packed this tight, we run the risk of—"

"Don't bother, human." Modra brushed away the Senshi's concern with a dismissive gesture. "We have this situation well under control. We don't need your 'help'."

"You ought to listen to her," snapped Sailor Mars in retort. "They still might have tricks up their sleeves. We can't afford to take chances!"

Modra spared Sailor Mars a contemptuous glance, which the human met head-on. Then, pointedly ignoring the Senshi's words, the youma flew forward, swooping down the hall to press the attack hard.

More of those accursed bladed headbands buzzed down the hall toward them but the youma swerved around the projectiles, firing back at the same time. The two dark warriors turned and ran under the assault, barely making it to the end of the hallway and disappearing around yet another corner.

Laughing victoriously, the group of youma put on an extra burst of speed as they chased after their broken, fleeing opponents. Modra led them in their pursuit, as they shot hungrily around the corner—

—which promptly exploded.

Modra had only a split-second to see what was happening. The one that had thrown the bandannas was kneeling just around the corner, his fingers shooting out and _poking_ the floor and walls with desperate speed. The next instant, she and her fellow youma were blasted backward, trying to shield their eyes from the cloud of wood and plaster, dust and shrapnel that engulfed them. Their formation lost all cohesion, Ruzova even crashing into Zelen, who had stopped quicker than her.

And then Ranma was in the middle of them.

His fists and feet lashed out in every direction, knocking the already-disoriented youma away. Modra tried to dodge, but he grabbed her by the small wings sprouting from her forehead, one in each hand... then yanked her head down, right into a knee strike.

The youma's vision exploded into white, and she struggle feebly, but Ranma wasn't finished. He repeated the action again, and was about to do it a third time when he suddenly leaped away, just before a glowing disc shot through the air where he had just been standing.

Modra wobbled, barely keeping her feet, her world spinning in circles around her. But through the confusion she saw Ryouga, his belt in hand once more, his arm cocked behind his head.

And then he threw the weapon, sending it spinning toward her like a huge buzz saw.

She screamed at her body to move, but she was far too sluggish from the brutal beating. Time seemed to slow down, ice cold terror washing over her as she realized that she was dead. The attack was going to slice her in half, and there was nothing she could do about it.

But just before it hit, a red-and-white blur tackled the youma from the side, knocking her out of the way. Instead of hitting her, the spinning blade cut a glancing blow into Sailor Mars, gouging into her shoulder and then tearing free in a spray of blood.

Then they hit the ground, tumbling over each other in an uncontrolled roll, while the belt embedded itself deep into a nearby wall. Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury were not long in rushing over, and the other youma were recovering from the surprise attack as well. Together they unleashed their attacks, their massed fire managing to drive the enemy back once more.

Modra forced herself back up to her hands and knees, looking over at Sailor Mars, her expression incredulous. "You..." she demanded, unable to quite put coherent thought to what had just happened. "I... You... _Why?_"

Sailor Mars got back to a sitting position as well. The movement caused a flinch of pain to cross her face, but she met Modra's gaze levelly. "We're allies, until this is over," she said, as though that ought to explain everything. "I gave my word. I won't go back on it. And allies protect each other when they need help."

Modra said nothing to that, only stared at the Senshi with incomprehension. Then Sailor Mercury knelt down beside them, inspecting the wound. "We need to put a dressing on this," she told them.

"There isn't any time," protested the Senshi of Fire. "It's not too deep. I'll be fine." She tried to rise, but her teammate gently held her down, then pulled off both of her own forearm-length white-and-blue gloves, tying them in place to stop the bleeding.

As soon as Sailor Mercury was done, Sailor Mars climbed back to her feet, and this time she was not interrupted. "Come on!" she shouted, as she hurried off in the direction the Dark Lords had gone. "We can't let them get away!"

It took Modra a few seconds more to gather herself, and as she did, the full realization of what had just happened began to coalesce inside her with horrible clarity. Saved. She had been _saved_ by one of those... those...

She slammed her hand into the floor, her fingers clawing deep into it as molten fury boiled through her, exceeded only by the hideous _shame_. She looked up, her hands trembling, her eyes burning twin points of hatred into Sailor Mars' back.

_I will see you dead for this, human,_ she promised silently. _When the time is right, I will kill you with my own hands..._

_

* * *

_

Ryouga shuddered as he stumbled along, recalling what had almost just happened. That had been _way_ too close. He had thought he was about to take out one of the youma, but his heart had fairly stopped when Sailor Mars had jumped in front of his attack.

Even now his thoughts alternated between relief and guilt over what had happened. It certainly could have been a _lot_ worse, but causing even that much harm to a young girl was eating away at him. Certainly they'd had no intention of hurting the Senshi in all this.

_This whole stupid plan has gone straight to hell,_ he brooded. _I can't imagine how we're going to pull it off now. Unless we get that bowl back, there's no way it can work!_

He continued to stagger forward, his collection of accumulated injuries making each step torture. He, of course, had no idea where they were going; he simply followed in Ranma's wake, trying his best to stay on his feet.

Finally the pigtailed fighter made a left turn—at least, Ryouga _thought_ it was a left turn—and the two boys found themselves in the Furinkan cafeteria. Ranma let out a deep breath. "All right," he said. "If we make our stand here... well, at least there's more room to dodge than in those damn hallways. Help get some tables and barricade the doors; that might slow 'em down a little, and we'll get some warning if they break through."

The lost boy nodded, and reached down to lift one of the tables, only to have his vision swim a little. Angrily he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, brushing away the trails of sweat that were pouring down it. He felt hideously weak, and he was pretty sure that his fever was making a resurgence.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. There was no time for this. He had a job to do, and he would do it—even if it only seemed to be delaying the inevitable.

* * *

Beneda scrambled backward along the ground, trying to get away from the oncoming Darkmistress, until she felt her back hit a tree, stopping her. The corpse-like youma continued to advance, taking her time, looking down with a gloating smile that showed off her rotten, decaying teeth.

She was even more hideous now than the last time she had cornered Beneda. A huge, ugly burn now covered the right side of her face, warping her features and giving her desiccated flesh an extra aspect of deformity. Beyond that, she still wore the same tattered black cloak, still the same white headpiece with the outline of wings outstretched and the dark red gem at its center.

"Surprised, little traitor?" the Darkmistress gloated, as she closed in. "Expecting me to be trapped by your allies' ambush, perhaps? Unfortunately for you, I was able to fool them with a simple diversionary attack... and slipped right through their fingers."

She looked down at the bowl she held in her left hand. "And now I have the ability to banish your new allies whenever I choose, simply by breaking this. Which I will most certainly do... just as soon as they have killed Jadeite for me. That accursed General will be dead, in a way that cannot possibly be traced to me, and I will be the hero who brought victory out of his abject failure." She cackled. "Too perfect. The game is finally over... and I have won entirely."

Beneda's breath was coming in panicked gasps. This, she knew, was the end. Such a confrontation she had no hope of surviving. There was no sane hope of victory—none at all.

And yet... she also knew a whole host of people who barely seemed to be slowed down by hopeless odds and no-win situations. It was a mindset alien to her, but after spending so much time among them, she was surprised to find a tiny spark of that same attitude flaring inside her.

She raised her head, met the Darkmistress's eyes directly, and a hysterical little laugh bubbled up inside her. _Yes,_ she thought. _It's insane. To think that I could actually fight her... it's completely insane._

_But you'd better watch out when you go up against someone from Nerima... because we're all insane here._

And with that, she snapped up her arm, formed a shuriken, and fired it right at the Darkmistress's face.

The corpse-like youma blinked, then swatted the projectile away, her face taking on an outraged expression. _"Impudent little wretch!"_ she hissed. "You only make your own end that much more terrible!"

Beneda's response was to shoot more shuriken. She rolled to her feet as she fired, and began to strafe to her right, trying to keep her distance. The Darkmistress's lip twisted as she leaned back and forth around the attacks, occasionally having to do a full sidestep. Nothing Beneda tried was having any effect, and she was wracking her brain for something she could do... when she noticed that behind the Darkmistress, Kodachi's prone form was stirring.

The weaker youma redoubled her assault, trying to serve as a distraction, if nothing else. The Darkmistress strode toward her, avoiding or batting aside every attack, but Kodachi was on her feet now, her face twisted in anger. Gymnastics clubs appeared in each of her hands, and with a flick of her fingers, spikes shot out of their heads. She spun them expertly, then hurled them at the youma who had struck her.

But the Darkmistress must have sensed them coming, because just before they hit she twisted down on one knee. The projectiles hissed over her head, almost hitting Beneda themselves.

"You _dare_ to attack the Black Rose of St. Bacchus?" was Kodachi's angry shout, as she produced fresh clubs to replace the ones she had thrown. "I shall teach you the folly of making me your enemy, monster!"

The corpse-like youma turned to face her new attacker—only to have Beneda unload even more spinning blades at her as well. The Darkmistress growled in frustration, forced to dodge more seriously as Kodachi added her clubs to the assault. Then, when those did not strike home, the gymnast leaped in closer, her ribbon blurring as it snaked through the air in strike after strike.

Moving with meticulous precision, the Darkmistress jumped backwards, sidestepping, sidestepping, ducking—then attacking, as she saw her opening. Her foot stomped down on Kodachi's ribbon, trapping it in place. From there she lunged, slipping under one of Beneda's shuriken to deliver a brutal uppercut to Kodachi's stomach that doubled her over.

Beneda tried to give more supporting fire, but the Darkmistress actually _caught_ her next shuriken right out of the air and threw it back—far faster than it had come. Beneda hurled herself headlong to one side, and only just barely avoided having her head taken off.

She tried to roll back to her feet, but the other youma was on her before she could even come close. The Darkmistress pulled her upright, then hit her with a contemptuous backhand that sent her spinning into a tree, and from there crumpling to the ground.

It wasn't altogether clear how long she remained like that. She was only just holding onto consciousness, and her sense of time was not very solid. She could hear the Darkmistress fighting Kodachi, taunting her. "_You_ teach _me_ the folly of making you my enemy?" the youma demanded, her words punctuated by vicious-sounding blows. "_You_ teach _me?_"

With an effort, Beneda lifted her head a little bit off the ground, and saw that Kodachi was reeling back and forth as the Darkmistress beat her again and again. "Deluded little creature," the youma spat, as she drove a kick into the human girl's face. "Show me this strength of yours!" The next kick slammed into her rib cage, and Beneda heard a cracking sound. _"Show me!"_ The next kick went to her leg, knocking her to the ground.

The gymnast wobbled back to her feet, and the Darkmistress made no move to stop her. Kodachi stumbled backward, getting some distance between them, then gathered herself once more. "Silence... monster..." she choked out, spitting up blood as she spoke. "I will not... tolerate your mockery... any longer..." Her ribbon snapped up, and she readied herself for yet another hopeless attack.

She threw herself at her opponent in an all-out charge. Her ribbon flashed in a half-dozen different feints, trying to obscure the path of her actual attack. Then Kodachi was on her, a rage-filled scream of a battle cry tearing itself from her throat as she swung the ribbon with all her might at the side of the youma's head. The Darkmistress simply _stood_ there, unmoving, unimpressed, a tiny smirk growing on her features.

Then, just before Kodachi's swing struck home, the youma's form blurred... and suddenly it was no longer the nightmare figure who stood there. In her place stood someone else—a human woman.

She was middle-aged, her long black hair streaked with grey. Her face was creased with worry lines, making her look even older than she probably was, and she carried a quiet, weary ache in her posture. She wore a small, sad smile on her face, as she looked up and met Kodachi's eyes.

All color drained from Kodachi's face, her eyes becoming wide and panic-stricken, her arm jerking in a violent spasm as she wrenched her strike away from its target, her ribbon hissing harmlessly past.

And then the illusory figure struck, grabbing Kodachi by her ponytail and wrenching it down to slam her face-first into the ground. Then the Darkmistress pulled her head back up, repeating the action three more times, each time bloodying the girl's face more and more. At last the youma stood, resuming her true form, and turned back to face Beneda. "Now for you."

Beneda tried to climb back to her hands and knees, but her arms failed her halfway and she crumpled back to the ground. The Darkmistress started to walk toward her next prey... but was distracted by a small whimpering noise from behind her.

Kodachi was still moving. It was jerky and uncoordinated, but her hands were reaching out, trying to feel for something. She managed to flip herself onto her back, and Beneda saw that her eyes were unfocused, twitching back and forth in a shell-shocked manner as she blinked back tears. "M- mommy?" she whispered. Then with greater urgency, "Mommy... _why?_"

The Darkmistress looked down at the girl, frowning in puzzlement. Then, suddenly, a look of comprehension blossomed across the youma's face.

"Unbelievable..." she breathed, almost reverentially. "The illusion of what you held dearest... Your fractured, fragile little mind is so warped that you... you don't even realize it was a fake!" As she spoke, the youma's face lit up, taking on an expression of almost childish glee, as though she had just been told that Christmas was coming early this year. "This... this is _perfect!_"

Turning away from Beneda, the other youma now forgotten, the Darkmistress resumed her illusion and knelt down next to Kodachi. "My child..." she said, her voice now completely changed into something gentle and calm. "My daughter... look at me."

Kodachi turned her head, saw the face looking down at her, and a look of raw, desperate longing flooded her eyes. "Mommy?" she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes..." the Darkmistress murmured soothingly. "Yes, child. It is me."

And then—still wearing the form of Kodachi's mother—she dug her fingers deep into the girl and poured crimson lightning into her.

Kodachi let out a shriek of agony that seemed impossible to have come from a human throat. She thrashed and struggled, trying to escape... but her mother held her down, laughing hysterically all the while. The searing flashes of blood-colored energy lit the youma's human-seeming face with a demonic glow, revealing the hideous _hunger_ in those eyes as she watched the results of her torture, drinking it in.

The gymnast screamed and screamed and screamed... and Beneda felt a burst of sickened rage explode within her. A moment ago she had been unable to even so much as get to her hands and knees, but riding the surge of fury she lurched to her feet, forming shuriken on both her hands. She swung them to bear on the other youma, sighted, and then began firing with both arms as fast as she could.

Caught up in Kodachi's suffering as she was, the Darkmistress almost didn't react in time. She whirled, dodging, the hand not holding the bowl blurring in a defensive pattern. One of the spinning blades managed to tear a notch out of her cheek, drawing a hiss of pain from her. She responded with a quick burst of lightning that caught Beneda square in the chest, sending her flying.

She lay there where she had fallen, her breath wheezing in and out, her vision swimming, listening as the Darkmistress's footfalls drew nearer and nearer. "You piece of _trash!_" she heard the youma snarl. "Interrupting my pleasure like that... such perfect, _perfect_ pleasure!"

Beneda tried to muster up the strength to do something—anything—but it was no use. She had nothing left. _I'm sorry, everyone,_ she thought. _I'm sorry I let you down. I really tried my best._

Then the Darkmistress's boots appeared in Beneda's vision. Her hand reached down toward Beneda's face, red lightning crackling around it. "Die," the corpse-like youma ground out. "Die slowly. Die in such agony that for a hundred years, your name will be used as a warning to all that would even _think_ to defy the invincible might of the Dark Kingd_AGKH!_"

The youma's words were cut off as a rope shot in from behind her, coiling around her throat and wrenching her back through the air. She was unable to even keep her hold on the precious bowl; it tumbled from her hand, falling into the grass nearby.

The Darkmistress landed hard on her back, skidding—then rolled frantically to one side. The next instant, the spot where she had been lying was shredded by a dozen throwing knives, chewing up the ground with machine-gun-like speed.

The youma scrambled backward, fighting to unwind the rope from around her neck. She managed to cast it aside, and then looked over to where the attacks had come from.

He stood there, his white robe blowing slightly in the gentle wind, his arms tucked out of sight inside his sleeves, looking at his opponent through the thick, coke-bottle lenses of his glasses.

Then Mousse spoke, his voice cold. "Save your threats, you sick, sadistic bitch. You and I have unfinished business."

* * *

"Elder Liu Fa, are you... sure this is a good idea?" asked the young messenger Balm timidly. "Elder Sou Pu _did_ say that you shouldn't be exerting yourself..."

Loofah snorted as she looked out over the battlefield from her new vantage point atop one of the buildings. "That woman is a born meddler—she's been that way ever since she was a child. I think half the reason she became a healer in the first place was to have an excuse for ordering around even her elders."

"B- but still..."

The crippled master waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. "Someone needs to replace Mu Si, and we've no one else to spare who can do it. Instead of fussing over me, go tell the fourth and sixth battle groups to fall back to Tiger point and defend it." Balm hesitated, then nodded and dashed off, leaving the old woman to gaze up at the youma wheeling overhead.

Loofah hoped that whoever was commanding these monsters didn't actually think she had been fooled by the obvious diversionary attack they had employed. Even if the ancient master _hadn't_ been able to sense the very youma whose "escape" the attack had been intended to cover, the attack's true purpose would still have been rather insultingly transparent.

She didn't know for certain why the enemy was willing to send three whole platoons to certain doom just to get one youma past their lines, but she had been perfectly willing to take them up on the trade. She had simply signaled Mousse to halt his attack on the fliers and sent him to chase after the lone youma, to make sure their enemies took no benefit from the exchange at all.

This, however, did leave Mousse's original duty vacant. Hence the reason she was up on the rooftop herself.

Loofah could feel the groaning protestations of her battered body, the price of far too many injuries over a lifetime that had stretched far too long. The obvious damage, such as her leg, or her missing arm, was only the tip of the iceberg. Soap's concerns were not quite so unfounded as she had pretended in front of young Balm, and Loofah knew she would pay a price for what she was going to do today.

But this was the best choice of action, all things considered. And besides—this was the first battle in millennia against the fabled enemies that previously had only existed in the depths of Joketsuzoku legend.

There was no way she was letting this confrontation pass without having struck a single blow against them, personally.

The ancient Joketsuzoku battlemaster looked up at the swarming youma, a dangerous smile on her face, a bright glow coalescing at her fingertips. "Well then..." she murmured, raising her hand to point it up at the enemy. "Let's swat some flies."

* * *

Nephrite raised his eyebrows a little as the view in the scrying pool was suddenly split by bolt after bolt of energy, shooting up from one of the rooftops to strike the youma who were swarming across the skies, picking them off with merciless precision. The source seemed to be yet another one of those tiny, shriveled crones.

"Impressive..." he heard Kunzite say. The white-haired General was sitting on the opposite side of the pool, observing the scene as well. "Those warriors are not to be underestimated."

"Well it certainly does look like Jadeite's group is taking a beating," put in Zoisite, his voice bubbling with undisguised glee. "This could hardly be going better."

Kunzite grunted. "Battle is never certain," he cautioned. "Anything could still happen—particularly if whoever is commanding those youma stops fighting like a fool."

Zoisite nodded in reluctant agreement. Nephrite, however, was more concerned about the issue Kunzite's statement had dodged. "Assuming that they continue with their current tactics, though, how should we deal with these enemies once we're satisfied with the losses Jadeite has taken?"

"Why, I had assumed that _you_ would lead a glorious charge of your own forces to turn the tables on them," offered Zoisite, spreading his arms wide. "It's common knowledge that you are next in line to command operations in the human world should Jadeite fail, so it only makes sense."

Nephrite crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. Yes, that was about what he had expected. Zoisite wasn't ready to make his own play for power yet—not before he was in a position to safely deal with his rivals. Jadeite was clearly well on his way to that fate, and he wanted to position Nephrite for a similar fall.

And Nephrite was very acutely aware that Zoisite had brought him in blind to this situation—a situation that Zoisite had had all the time in the world to rig to his own advantage.

"Oh, I have no intention of depriving you of that honor, Zoisite," he replied. "After all, it was thanks to _your_ ingenuity that we even know about this at all." The statement had a subtle threat to it; should Beryl ever find out about their... unhurried... response to Jadeite's situation, it would be Zoisite, as the one who had originally discovered it, who would be the most likely to be singled out for the Queen's wrath.

The blond General flushed angrily and opened his mouth to retort, but was halted by Kunzite's hand resting on his shoulder. The most powerful General then turned to Nephrite. "This isn't the time to be fighting amongst the three of us," he said. "I propose a third option, one that will allow us to fully demonstrate Jadeite's ineptitude and deal with the aftermath, while not exposing any of our positions to disproportionate risk."

Nephrite digested this, locking gazes with Kunzite for a moment before finally giving his response. "I'm listening."

* * *

The corpse-like youma clenched her fists, flashes of crimson electricity arcing around her fingers as she appraised her new opponent. "So, then..." she said at last. "Your previous defeat wasn't enough for you?"

"You caught me off guard that time," replied Mousse, his voice level. "It won't happen again."

The Darkmistress smirked.

Then she thrust both of her hands at him together, the lightning raging from her palms in a single, consuming surge. It smashed straight through the tree it struck, toppling it, but Mousse was already gone.

A white blur angled around the blast, hurtling in at the Darkmistress from the side, a large scimitar shooting out of its sleeve. The hidden weapons master charged his foe, his blade fairly vanishing as he hacked at her. The youma gave ground, ducking and weaving, both her hands blazing as she fired back in counterattack. Mousse swerved between the bolts of energy, thrusting, feinting, slashing, refusing to let up the assault.

One cut arced down at the Darkmistress's head from above, but she jumped back in time, then slammed her palm down on the back of the weapon as it passed, driving the blade deep into the ground. Mousse didn't bother extricating it, simply producing a pair of sai from his sleeves and using them to block away the youma's arms as she lunged for his throat.

The Darkmistress followed with a kick, and Mousse was forced to throw himself backward to avoid it. That allowed the momentum of the combat to shift... and soon the human was the one on the defensive.

Beneda watched as the two robed figures battled, often becoming little more than blurs of black and white as they darted between the trees, clashing with each other again and again. Mousse's weapons changed rapidly, the latest one a huge spiked mace, its massive bulk ripping through the air with terrifying force as he swung it expertly around himself.

As she watched, she caught sight of something on the ground—the bowl that had fallen from the Darkmistress's hands when Mousse had first attacked her. Knowing how important the magic item was, Beneda summoned up what little strength she had recovered and began to crawl, inch by inch, over to where it lay. Finally reaching the artifact, she tucked it underneath her, shielding it with her body as she watched the duel play itself out.

* * *

Mousse dove frantically to one side, barely avoiding one of the Darkmistress's lightning bolts. He hit the ground and immediately pulled himself into a roll, another bolt exploding the ground just behind him. From there he dove behind one of the larger trees, flattening his back out against it while he tried to catch his breath.

_She's... tough,_ he thought grudgingly, in between pants. _Very tough. Trying to take her with a rush at the beginning was... probably a mistake._ He'd put her on the defensive for a moment, but he hadn't come close to finishing her, and such a high-pressure attack had been draining. _I was overconfident. If I'm going to beat her, I'm going to have to fight smarter than I have been._

With a flick of his wrist, he produced a good-sized hand mirror out of his sleeve, using it to peer around the tree trunk without exposing himself to direct fire. In its reflection he could see that the Darkmistress seemed to be taking a moment to catch her breath as well, though she didn't seem to be nearly as tired as he was.

Then he saw her raise her hand, and a burst of red lightning struck the mirror, tearing it from his grasp and shattering it. Moments later, a follow-up blast tore into the tree itself. It took less than a second to tear its way through the trunk, but that brief interval was enough for Mousse to dart clear. Behind him the tree began its ponderous fall, as the stream of energy punched clean through its base.

As he ran, Mousse reached deep into his sleeves. _Change in plans,_ he thought. _If I can't overwhelm her with an all-out attack, I'll try to chip away at her bit by bit. With the kind of attacks she's using, it looks like she wants to keep me at a distance._

Then he pulled his hands out of his sleeves, differently-shaped throwing knives now clutched between each and every one of his fingers. _Well. I can play that game too._

_

* * *

_

The Darkmistress released her lighting from each hand, blasting two throwing knives right out of the air. But there were five more right behind them, arcing in all different angles. She ran and swerved, the countless blades slicing through the air all around her, some coming close enough to nick her robes. _This one... he isn't like the other two Dark Lords,_ she realized. _Fighting at range is an actual focus of his style!_

She ducked behind a tree herself, and heard three more knives embed into the wood. A moment later, she heard something much bigger come hurtling through the air. She jerked her head to one side, just as a spear exploded straight through the trunk where her skull had just been.

The youma cursed viciously under her breath. He had changed tactics; she needed to change hers. Concealed behind the trunk, she cloaked her aura as completely as she could... then leapt straight up, running up the face of the tree, using its branches as occasional springboards. Soon she burst above the canopy, launching herself out over the treetops... and over the human as well.

Crimson energy gathered in her palms, as much as she could manage, and she hurled it all down at her unsuspecting foe. His head snapped up at the last moment, but he was unable to dodge fully. He managed to twist out of the bolt's direct path, but it still hit the ground right at his feet, the explosion flinging him high into the air, flipping him head over heels.

It was a perfect opening.

The youma observed his trajectory, then fired a second blast from on high. But at the same time the human's hand shot out, launching a chain that wrapped around a nearby tree. He yanked hard, dragging himself out of the lightning's path, and into a tight arc that swung him completely around his tree. He sprang off another one of the branches as he came around the other side, launching himself up at the youma—along with a half-dozen throwing axes. The Darkmistress kicked off another tree, propelling herself to one side.

The upper levels of the forest were now their battlefield, as they ricocheted back and forth through the air, leaping between and around the trees, the air constantly split by blood-colored magic and high-velocity steel.

On and on the battle raged. The human landed on a larger tree branch, balancing there easily. Then the Darkmistress landed next to him, forcing him to hop quickly back toward the trunk, twisting around the lightning bolts she sent after him. He yanked a sword from his sleeve, covering his retreat with a series of slashes, forcing her to fall back... whereupon he dropped into a crouch and hacked off the section of the branch that the youma was standing on.

The Darkmistress felt gravity clutch at her, as suddenly there was nothing firm beneath her feet. The human burst out of his crouch, thrusting his sword straight at her chest, eager to take advantage of her loss of footing. So eager, that he overcommitted himself.

Slamming her hand up underneath the blade, the youma managed to force it off course, though not without sustaining a gash on her palm—she had not been able to catch the flat of the blade perfectly. But it had been enough. His attack extended too far, the human could not stop her from grabbing hold of his wrist, and channeling her lighting through it.

He screamed deliciously. She pulled with all her might, dragging him off the branch with her, and together they tumbled end over end through the air, plummeting earthward wrapped in constant discharges of crimson radiance.

Even as he howled and thrashed, the human managed to reach his free hand into his sleeve, grabbing hold of something in there that the Darkmistress could not see. She caught that arm too, as he started to pull it back out, determined not to let him employ whatever weapon he had drawn. Then, out of curiosity, she tilted her head to look down his sleeve, wanting to see what it was she had kept him from drawing.

Just in time to see the bomb's fuse finish burning down.

The explosion blasted them apart, tearing apart his right sleeve and ending her electrocution of him. It threw him earthward, slamming him into the ground, while it hurled her higher into the air. She was stunned for a moment, but then she gathered her wits and hurled another lightning bolt straight down at her opponent.

Battered, stunned and prone as he was, there was no chance for him to dodge. Instead, he reached into the remains of his tattered right sleeve and pulled out a tortoise-shell shield, interposing it between the blast and himself while reinforcing it with his other hand. The lightning slammed into it, driving him further into the ground, but his defense held.

The Darkmistress quickly abandoned that method of attack, and instead formed her lightning gauntlets, pouring as much of her power into them as she could. She dropped toward him with ever-increasing speed, channeling all her strength, momentum and sorcerous power into a single, titanic strike.

At the last instant the human rolled to one side, but the detonation when her fist struck the earth still hurled him violently away. The attack tore a crater into the ground, from which the corpse-like youma emerged, laughing, backlit by the residual flashes of her power.

The human wobbled to his feet, but the Darkmistress was already charging him, her lightning gauntlets crackling around her arms. She swung, just as he produced a long staff from his sleeves and swung it up in a desperate parry.

He managed to deflect the main attack, the wood insulating him from the current, but in his weakened state the sheer force of the punch sent him staggering back. The youma attacked again and again, as he fought merely to stay alive, giving more and more ground with each blow. One of her strikes snapped his staff in two, and he shifted to using one half in each hand.

She could see the desperation in the human's eyes, could taste the panic, the hopelessness, like a sweet nectar. She attacked with renewed vigor, and soon she succeeded in tearing one of the staff pieces from his hand. He tried to defend himself with the remaining half, but her next blow knocked that away as well. Cackling, she raised her arm high for yet another blow...

...which never landed, as a ribbon wound around her elbow, holding her arm back.

The youma's head whirled around, to see Kodachi gripping the other end. She was still lying where the Darkmistress had left her, but she had managed to lift her head, and had unleashed her weapon at that crucial moment. She clung to the piece of cloth with both hands, pulling with all her strength, her bloodshot eyes glaring hatred up at the Darkmistress.

And in that moment, Mousse struck.

Gathering himself, he lunged full-tilt at the youma, aiming himself at the huge new opening in her guard. Frantically, the Darkmistress tried to take a swing at him with her remaining arm, but Mousse slipped underneath it, coming in low to the ground. She tried to backpedal, but the instant her foot left the ground Kodachi gave an extra yank, breaking her balance and causing her to stumble. Mousse spun, a knife appearing in his hand as he accumulated momentum, and then he used the force of the spin to stab the blade into the side of the youma's knee.

It bit deep, the blade embedding most of the way. Then, completing his spin, Mousse slammed a kick into the hilt of the weapon, driving it in the rest of the way like a hammer driving a nail.

The Darkmistress let out a horrible scream, as the agony burst over her senses. Pain caused her lightning to go _berserk_. She threw it in Mousse's general direction, and although he leapt back, the resulting blast hurled all three of the combatants away like rag dolls.

* * *

Beneda curled into a ball, shielding the precious bowl as the blast hit her. She hadn't been nearly as close to the epicenter of the blast as the other three had been, but it still hurt mightily.

Shaking, she raised her head once more, taking in the results of the last exchange. All three of the fighters were flat on their backs. Kodachi seemed to be unconscious, but the other two were already stirring. As she watched, Mousse pulled himself to one knee, then to his feet. The Darkmistress did the same, although she had much more trouble. She was unable to bend the knee that the knife was impaled through, nor could she put much weight on it.

For what seemed like an eternity they stood there, measuring each other, the only sound the whisper of the breeze and their labored breathing. They were each planning, preparing, marshalling their remaining strength.

Then Mousse took a deep breath, reached deep into his sleeve, and pulled out a weapon. It was a long, straight sword, with Chinese characters that Beneda could not read engraved into its white sheath. He held it in front of him, slowly sliding the weapon and sheath apart. Once he had finished he returned the sheath to his sleeve, and then swung the sword in a blindingly-fast motion, ending with it in a ready position at his side.

Beneda could _hear_ the razor sharpness in his swing, and though she knew next to nothing about human weapons, even she could tell that this sword was nothing like the many other swords that Mousse had used and discarded up to this point. This blade, she knew, was a true masterwork.

The hidden weapons master had drawn his trump card.

"This," Mousse informed the Darkmistress, his eyes hard, "will be the final blow."

The corpse-like youma looked at the sword, then down at her own hands, and an idea seemed to take hold of her. She thrust her palm out to one side, projecting her lightning from it. Like her lightning gauntlets, it was molded and constrained, but this time it took the shape of a sword to match Mousse's.

Once it was complete, the Darkmistress looked back up at Mousse, an ugly smile on her face. "Yes..." she agreed, her voice thick with pain and hate. "It will be."

The two opponents stared each other down, each gripping their weapon in their right hands. Their eyes took in every detail, as their wills strained against each other across the open distance between them. Their auras filled the air, Mousse's precise and focused, the Darkmistress's raging and corrupted. Beneda held her breath, fearful that even the slightest noise might set them off. The low sizzle of the Darkmistress's glowing blade sounded deafening in Beneda's ears as she waited. And waited. And waited.

And then Mousse burst into motion, hurtling toward the Darkmistress, so fast that his body was nothing more than a blur. He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, a white streak of deadly intent...

...and then, just as he reached her, just as he began his swing, the Darkmistress's form blurred once more, becoming that of a terrified, pleading Shampoo.

Twin arcs, steel and lightning, slashed through the air in paths Beneda could barely register, let alone follow. And then Mousse was past the Darkmistress. Each of them stood motionless, each of their blades in the ending position of a strike. Then the illusion of Shampoo faded, and the youma's true form replaced it.

Beneda looked back and forth between the two, her heart in her throat. _Did his attack miss? Did he at least manage to dodge hers?_ she wondered, fear gripping her. _What just happened?_

There was no sign, no answer, only a deathly, frozen stillness. Beneda stared at Mousse, then at the Darkmistress, then back at Mousse again...

And then there was a sudden sound of tearing cloth. As Beneda watched, her eyes wide, the fabric of the Darkmistress's black garments began to split apart, the cut following a line from her right shoulder to her left hip. The corpse-like youma stared down at her chest, incomprehension written across her features. "H... how?" she croaked out at last.

"I was ready for that trick," Mousse told her quietly, without moving from his position. "The others warned me about it. And this was the perfect situation for you to use it."

"But... that shouldn't have _mattered!_" the Darkmistress protested weakly, as though that could somehow change the reality facing her. "Your reactions... your instincts... but you didn't even _hesitate_, not for an instant! _How?_" Her voice took on a desperate, pleading quality. "I was what you loved most! I was the one thing... in all the world... that it should have cut out your heart to strike against!"

At that, Mousse turned around, facing the youma at last. He regarded her for a moment, then lifted his _left_ hand, the one not holding his sword...

...and put his glasses back on his face.

"Were you?" he asked. "I wouldn't know. All I could see... was a blur."

And then, parting on the cut he had made, the upper half of the Darkmistress slid free of the lower half, toppling over as her entire body disintegrated into a pile of dust on the forest floor.

Mousse took a deep breath, sheathed his sword and returned it to his sleeve, then turned and walked over to where Beneda lay. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Beneda, for her part, was still staring numbly at the remains of what had once been the most feared youma in the entire Dark Kingdom. "You... you killed her," she whispered. "You actually _killed_ the Darkmistress!"

"Beneda," Mousse repeated firmly, his voice cutting through her shock. "Can you stand?"

She made the attempt, but only with Mousse's help was she able to get to her feet. Even then she was still very wobbly, and the hidden weapons master shook his head. "Not good. I need to get back to the battle, and you need to get that bowl back to Saotome, for all our sakes. But you'll never make it in time, not in the condition you're in." He frowned in thought, then spoke again. "Drain some of my ki."

"What?" The youma jerked in shock. "But... you're already so injured! If you're going back to fight, there's no way—"

Mousse made an impatient slashing motion. "No time. I've got enough to spare, and it's the only way. Do it." He pulled the remains of his right sleeve back, and presented her with his arm.

She hesitated, then nodded and grabbed hold of him by the wrist. She focused, and slowly she felt the energy of strength, of vitality, of _life_ seep into her. A hiss escaped her lips, and suddenly her injuries felt less severe, her bone-deep exhaustion fading. Mousse swayed, stumbling a little, but then forced himself back upright. "Good."

Beneda wanted to ask if he was _really_ all right, but she sensed that his pride would not permit him to give a truthful answer even if he wasn't. Instead she turned to where Kodachi lay. "What about her?"

"I'll carry her back with me," answered Mousse. "We have a field hospital set up for our wounded; she should be able to recover there."

The youma nodded. "All right, then. I guess... I should hurry. Ranma will need the artifact returned as soon as possible. Thank you, Mousse. You saved my life."

The hidden weapons master shrugged uncomfortably, turned to go... and then hesitated. "Beneda..." he said at last. "One warning."

"Yes?"

"Beware Cologne. If Ranma's plan actually works, it will protect you from the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi. But Cologne is still bound to our laws... and Ranma's plan will not protect you from her."

Beneda swallowed, hard. "I understand. Thank you. Again."

Without reply, Mousse turned away, gathering up Kodachi's limp body in his arms, then leaping off in the direction he had come from. Beneda watched him go for a few seconds. Then she glanced down at the bowl still held safely in her hands, turned herself, and began to run back toward Furinkan. Hoping that she would be in time.

* * *

Ranma glanced over at Ryouga, who—like Ranma himself—was crouched behind the marginal cover of the cafeteria lunch counter. "How're you holding up?" he asked.

The lost boy's response was a flat glare. "If I wasn't so determined to take as many of the Dark Kingdom as we can with us when we die, I'd kill you right here for talking me into such a stupid plan." But his voice lacked any real fire behind the words; more than anything else, he sounded tired.

Ranma rolled his eyes. "Always such a pessimist..."

"Yes, because we have _so_ much to be optimistic about." Ryouga peeked over the top of the counter, looking out across the empty room, then hunkered back down. "Damn it. What are they waiting for?"

"Probably working out their plan of attack," suggested Ranma. "They figure they've got us boxed up in here, so why not take a little extra time to work out the move they want to make."

"Wonderful." Ryouga's voice dropped to a low mutter. "So what do we do now, oh great genius whose ideas never fail?"

"Hey, we ain't dead yet!" Ranma paused for a moment after saying the words... and then let out a small, wry chuckle.

Ryouga glanced over at the other boy. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Ranma said. "It's just... I was thinking about if this actually was the end. You and me. Fighting." He gestured around them. "In a cafeteria."

The lost boy glanced around for a moment, then let out a short bark of laughter at the memory of the very first time the two of them had ever laid eyes on each other. "I guess some things really do come full circle."

"Yeah, well, I don't plan on circling _myself_ in anytime soon," Ranma shot back. "I still think we can take them. And like you said, even if I do go, I'm taking as many of Jadeite's flunkies with me as I can."

Ryouga thought for a second, then spoke up again. "_I'm_ taking more."

The pigtailed fighter snorted. "Not a chance, P-chan. There's only five of 'em here, and I'll get at _least_ three before a slowpoke like you could manage it. If you're going to die, I guess you'll just have to settle for the smaller share..."

_"Damn it, Ran—!"_

It was then that the makeshift barricade of tables they had constructed in front of the entrance to their left was blasted inward by an explosion of flame, hurling burning debris across the room. Sailor Mars darted in, followed by three of the flying youma.

A split-second later, the barricade covering the door directly across from them was ripped apart by electrified tentacles, and the two other youma swooped through, followed by Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury. The eight opponents spread out, quickly taking positions all around the room where they could launch attack from all different angles without putting their allies in the line of fire.

The two boys exchanged a quick glance. Then, in unison, they vaulted over the counter, launching themselves at their foes. The DD Girls and Sailor Senshi both swung to target them, preparing to unleash their combined firepower at the two charging humans...

...and then the rightmost wall of the cafeteria was smashed inward by a devastating blow. Before the debris had even finished falling, bladed spatulas were already pouring through the hole. One spatula knocked the Moon Tiara cleanly out of Sailor Moon's unprepared hands, while the youma were targeted in much more deadly ways.

Their entire group scattered, dodging, thrown into disarray by the sudden and unexpected attack. Ranma, for his part, whirled to look at where the attack had come from.

His jaw immediately dropped in disbelief.


	20. Throw Down

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Throw Down

Jadeite stood outside the human school, doing his best not to show any weakness. As much as he might like to curl up into a pain-wracked ball to nurse his injuries, his pride refused to allow him that option—certainly not in front of his enemy. The Moon Cat was making no secret of the fact that she was watching him, probably on the lookout for any attempt at betrayal.

For his part, he reached out with his senses, attempting to locate the magical artifact they knew was hidden somewhere. But his search was utterly fruitless. Whatever shielding spell these Dark Lords were using, it was an impressive one.

To his side, the cat looked over her shoulder, back to where the two armies were fighting, far off in the distance. "I never thought I would say this," she muttered. "But I wish we had more youma around. Couldn't you have brought more with you?"

Jadeite shook his head—and had to suppress the wince of pain that the action threatened to evoke. Did this cat think he was a fool? "Those five were the only ones able to break free on their own power," he said, a touch of defensiveness in his tone. "My own ability to provide transport... has been temporarily lessened by recent events. I could not move many youma, and the first youma to go through any portal I made would have been one I would prefer not to be isolated here with."

Then, seeing the cat's uncomprehending glance, he put it in plainer terms. "She has a deep and abiding interest in killing me."

"So do we," the cat reminded him, her voice tart.

The Dark General smiled a humorless smile. "Yes. But unlike her, _you_ four will honor your part of our bargain faithfully, and to its end."

The cat was silent for a moment. Jadeite glanced down, and saw that she was looking up at him with a resigned expression that contained just a hint of pity. "That's... ironic, isn't it? You actually trust your sworn enemies more than your own allies. Doesn't that tell you _anything_ about the side you're fighting for?"

Jadeite turned away, looking off at nothing in particular. "It tells me that the side I'm fighting for isn't weak and soft, like yours," he shot back. "And that's the side that will win, in the end. The strong survive. And when I prove my strength to the Queen, my position will be secured."

Although he was not looking at her anymore, he could feel the cat's gaze on him. "And if your strength isn't enough, someday?" she asked quietly. "If someday your Queen doesn't find you so useful anymore? Who will stand up for you then?"

"That question is meaningless," the Dark General told her, his every word as hard as granite. "Because such a day will never come."

The cat said nothing in reply, letting the silence speak for her. Jadeite gritted his teeth. "In any case, don't you think your time would be better spent worrying about the welfare of your own soldiers?"

"They will be fine," the cat said firmly, although Jadeite suspected that she was trying to convince herself at least as much as him. "They've been through danger before. They'll find a way to turn the tables. Between Sailor Mars' courage, and Sailor Mercury's intelligence, and Sailor Moon's..." Her voice trailed off. "Sailor Moon's..."

"...luck?" suggested Jadeite.

"Luck," agreed the cat resignedly. "Between all that, I'm sure they'll stop those Dark Lords somehow."

"Well then," said Jadeite, gazing at the building in which the battle was taking place. "Let us hope that they are lucky indeed..."

* * *

The sudden assault of the enemy reinforcements had scattered the Senshi and their Dark Kingdom allies, but the eight of them quickly regrouped at the opposite end of the cafeteria. Sailor Mercury looked in astonishment at the three figures standing where the attack had come from.

They stood in a triangle formation, led by a very recognizable figure—Shampoo, the girl from the Nekohanten. Except now she was clad in an outfit that made the DD Girls' uniforms look positively modest.

Technically, Sailor Mercury supposed the black-and-silver plate bikini counted as "armor", but what its wearer thought it would protect was a mystery to the Senshi, as its only purpose seemed to be to reveal her lithe, finely toned body. On her head she wore a thin black tiara, and she wielded a pair of heavy-looking spherical maces, one in each hand. In short, she was a stunning vision of savage beauty.

Her companions were... not. The creature to her right was dressed in an unflattering smock, complete with an apron, splattered with what seemed like foodstains. Instead of hair, she seemed to have a strange _growth_ protruding from the sides of her head, one that gave her face the shape of a large spatula, like the one she wore strapped across her back. Her entire skin was a pale, sickly white, as though it had been sprinkled with flour.

The one to her left was even more monstrous in appearance. She wore angry red robes, and her face was covered by a wooden demon mask—one whose comically-deformed features were locked into a perpetual snarl of apoplectic fury. There were symbols sewn into the fabric of her robe as well, of humans dying in agony as they clutched at their throats or their stomachs.

"Is no fair, Master Ranma!" called out Shampoo exultantly. "Going into battle without Dark Queen Shampoo... and also lowly, weak youma minions!"

Sailor Mercury turned toward the two Dark Lords. Ryouga was simply gaping at them, glassy-eyed, his mouth hanging open, a stream of blood trickling down from his nose. Ranma, for his part, had one hand clamped firmly over his face, his whole body shaking, almost as though he were suppressing hysterical laughter. The red-clad monster turned, and even behind the mask, there was no mistaking the death glare she was sending his way.

It took him a second or two, but eventually Ranma got himself back under some semblance of control. "I... I thank you... my loyal servants..." he managed to say, choking back a snicker. "Your dedication to your master will not go unrewarded, once we have conquered this planet." He then waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Now go find someplace safe and leave the rest of the fighting to us."

_"What?"_ demanded the red-clad youma in an outraged voice. "You idiot! We're here to rescue you!"

Ranma scoffed. "Oh, yeah, sure," he said smugly. "Like someone as powerful as me would really need help to squash a few annoying defenders of justice, or some second-rate goons who think they know what true Evil is. We've got this completely under control, and I don't want you messing things up."

"Well it sure doesn't look like it's under control to me!" shot back the monster. "I don't see how I could do much worse!"

"Except maybe by getting yourself _killed_, you uncute... youma!" Ranma finished the sentence lamely. "This ain't no game!"

"I know that! I can take care of myself!"

Sailor Mercury just stood there, watching blankly, her head cocked slightly to one side as the evil menaces bickered back and forth like a pair of grade-schoolers. She knew she probably ought to be taking some kind of action... but no appropriate response to this was quite coming to mind. _What on earth are they doing? And in the middle of a fight, no less! Is this some kind of trick?_

But if it was a trick, the DD Girls weren't waiting for them to spring it. They attacked without warning, interrupting Ranma right in the middle of a shouted sentence as they sprayed their green tentacles at their enemies.

Ranma swore, and threw himself toward the monster he had been arguing with. He hit her in a blur of impossible velocity, snatching her up before the tentacles could even get near her and dancing through the hail of attacks now targeting them both. Everyone else—on both sides—burst into action as well, all thirteen of them moving, all at the same time.

It was complete pandemonium. Even Sailor Mercury couldn't track it all. It could hardly be called a "fight", really—everyone was simply trying to dodge their way to some measure of cover, while simultaneously attacking their enemies as best they could. Violent, raging bedlam was unleashed across the cafeteria.

In those first, frantic seconds the air was thick with bandanas, tentacles, spatulas and fire-bolts. None of it was particularly well-aimed, the shooters' own defense taking priority over lining up a decent shot amidst the frantic crossfire.

Sailor Mercury dove headlong for one of the remaining cafeteria tables, flipping it on its side between herself and her enemies. A moment later she was joined by the other two Senshi and Modra, the latter pursued by a hail of spatulas that began to embed into the table as the youma rolled behind it. A moment later she popped back up over the edge, returning fire with both arms.

The allied Senshi and youma still had the numbers advantage, and were able to put more firepower into the air. Their foes fell back under the assault... but the balance had shifted now. The Dark Lords' retreat was no longer the desperate flight it had been, but rather an unhurried regrouping. The fighters were pulling together, even as they moved to a more secure position.

The enemies with ranged attacks kept up a steady stream of suppressing fire, often forcing the DD Girls to keep their heads down. The other warriors, meanwhile, covered them. Shampoo was swinging her maces in furious arcs, managing to deflect attack after attack.

Even more fearsome was Ranma, who had ripped off a metal table leg from one of the broken cafeteria tables, and was twirling it around himself so fast that Sailor Mercury could detect only barest flickers of its movement. Any physical attack that passed close to him was struck aside. Two fireballs arced in at him, but he jumped nimbly around those as well. Step by step, the enemy fell back toward the hole their reinforcements had made on their entry, taking cover there.

Shampoo was one of the last to back through it, and Sailor Moon drew back her tiara, aiming for a parting shot... only to have Sailor Mars catch her fellow Senshi's hand at the wrist. "Wait!" she shouted. "Not her! I don't think she's choosing to fight of her own free will!"

A puzzled expression crossed Sailor Moon's face, but she lowered her weapon. Modra, for her part, whirled to fix Sailor Mars with an incredulous look. "What in all the hells are you talking about?"

"I talked with her great-grandmother!" pleaded Sailor Mars urgently. "She said that Ranma was... controlling her, somehow. I gave my word that we'd rescue her!"

"Not my problem, Senshi," was the youma's callous response. "She dies, like the rest of them."

"No!" Sailor Mars fixed Modra with a furious gaze. "We are _not_ going to let you kill someone who's innocent!"

A smile grew on the youma's face at the words, one of immense satisfaction. "Then I would say, little girl..." she said, savoring the words, "...that our alliance is _finally_ starting to be more trouble than it is worth."

Suddenly, Sailor Mercury realized that the hands of the other four youma scattered throughout the cafeteria were now pointed at _them_. The shift had happened without the slightest hesitation, with an ease and unison that clearly showed they had been preparing for it.

The DD Girls now had the Senshi in their sights from every direction. Sailor Mercury's heart skipped a beat, her mind scrambling to find a way out of the sudden situation, but she had hardly even begun to think when the surrounding youma all fired at them simultaneously.

At the same time, however, a pigtailed blur shot back out of the hole in the wall, racing toward them so fast that it left shred marks on the cafeteria floor. It dropped into a slide at the last instant, slamming both feet into the table that the Senshi and Modra were taking cover behind.

The table, in turn, slammed into them. Unprepared for the sudden attack, Sailor Mercury gasped as the breath was knocked from her lungs. She, along with her two teammates and the one youma, were sent flying through the air a split-second before the DD Girls' attacks hit them. Then she hit the ground, skidding on her back until she was abruptly stopped by the far wall.

Shakily, she pulled herself back up to her feet, looking around as she tried to settle her rattled train of thought. Ranma was in the center of the room, spinning back and forth, his black cloak whirling around him as he fought off the four DD Girls that were still standing. Ryouga was just rejoining the fray too, and Shampoo and her two youma were not far behind.

To Sailor Mercury's left, Modra let out a long string of vicious curses as she pulled herself off the floor, watching the fight as she did so. Her subordinates were only barely hanging on, and it was obvious that they were not going to win against so many alone.

Then, gritting her teeth, the youma turned to them. "Fine," she spat out. "You want to save that human's life? Then you take care of her, and her pets. After all, _you're_ the ones with experience killing monsters, right? Just keep them off our backs, and let us concentrate on the Dark Lords."

Modra and Sailor Mars locked gazes for a moment, and then Sailor Mars gave a sharp nod. With that, Modra took to the air, shooting back into the battle. As she left, Sailor Mercury called out one last warning, hoping that it would be heeded. "Remember! Don't let them get to close range with all of you at once!"

* * *

Akane ran at the green-skinned youma, several steps behind Ukyo. The disguised okonomiyaki chef had unsheathed her huge combat spatula, and proceeded to make a running swing at their foe.

The youma took to the air, allowing the fierce strike to pass under her while simultaneously counterattacking with her tentacles. They hit Ukyo head-on, latching onto her and driving her back toward Akane.

The Tendo girl jumped—just barely managing to clear her ally—and used Ukyo's shoulders for a handspring to throw herself up at their opponent in a flip-kick.

Casually, the DD Girl swerved around the attack, planting a foot in Akane's stomach that sent her plummeting back the way she had come. At the same time, the youma reeled in her tentacles, wrenching Ukyo into the air as Akane fell. The two girls collided painfully, even as their enemy continued her swing, tossing them both into the nearest wall.

The next instant, the youma was blindsided by Shampoo, who drove a flying kick into her head. The monster wobbled away, losing much of her altitude, and the Joketsuzoku warrior followed by swinging one of her maces down from above.

But the youma managed to recall her tentacles in time, and swung them up to catch the weapon in mid-attack. Shampoo swung with the other mace, but the result was the same. Akane pulled herself to her feet, and launched herself at the youma once more, from behind this time—

—only to feel Ukyo's noodle-ropes wind around her waist, yanking her back away. Akane barely had time to wonder why the chef had done that, when a torrent of flame roared through the air just in front of her, flooding her vision with red and orange.

Heart hammering in her chest at the close call, Akane rolled with Ukyo's pull. The instant they were close enough, the other girl caught Akane's foot in midair, and turned her to aim at where Sailor Mars was standing. Acting in concert, Akane sprang forward even as Ukyo hurled her, their combined strength sending the youngest Tendo flying at the Senshi like a missle.

Sailor Mars slammed her fingertips together, trying to snap off another attack, but Akane was on her before she could react to the sudden course change. She grabbed her opponent by the wrists in mid-flight, wrenching her hands apart, and then crashed straight into the Senshi in a shoulder tackle. The two of them went sprawling, rolling over one another, with Akane ending up on top.

_She's stronger than she looks!_ Akane thought, as she fought to restrain the other girl's hands. _And yet not much of a ki aura... some kind of magic instead?_

Nevertheless, Akane was strong too. More importantly for a grappling contest, the Tendo-style heiress had far more experience with leverage—and how it could be applied. Within seconds she had the younger girl pinned facedown, with both arms twisted behind her in armlocks. "I've, uh, got you now!" she gloated, in as harsh and monstrous-sounding a voice as she could manage. "You see? Evil will always triumph in the end!"

Beneath her, Sailor Mars fought tooth and nail, trying to throw her off, but with no success. But then, twisting her wrists, the Senshi managed to get her fingers pointed up behind her, right at Akane. _Twin _points of fire appeared at her fingertips, one on each hand, and Akane's eyes widened.

Two gouts of magic flame burst skyward, tearing through the ceiling before fading away. Akane, however, had jumped clear in time, scrambling backward. Sailor Mars spun to her feet, slamming her hands together again and releasing another, more concentrated fireball. Akane made a running dive, throwing herself out of its path as she slid out the nearby doorway and into the hallway beyond.

Sailor Mars walked after her, hands held at the ready, and Akane backed away in equal measure. _What am I going to do?_ the young martial artist thought. _Her attack is too flexible to shut down as easily as I was hoping, and it'll be difficult to get the jump on her again now that she's ready for it... I need a plan!_

But none seemed forthcoming, and before she had much time to think, the Senshi attacked again. She must have been charging the fireball, because it eclipsed all the ones Akane had yet seen, filling the entire hallway as it roared toward her. Akane ran, managing to hurl herself through one of the windows and into an adjacent classroom before the Senshi's attack shot by, obliterating everything in its path as it went.

* * *

Even as Ukyo threw Akane at Sailor Mars, she was planning out her own next move. Shampoo seemed to be in the most trouble at the moment. She was trading blows with the green-skinned DD Girl, but it was clear that the elite youma had the upper hand. Worse, the pink DD Girl was swooping around to attack from the Joketsuzoku warrior's flank. Ukyo raised her battle spatula, ready to dive into the fray—

—and then Ryouga appeared, barreling straight into the green youma and then flinging her into her ally. Shouting a battle cry, he chased after them. Ukyo winced at the unhealthy pallor of the lost boy's skin. _That idiot shouldn't be in a fight like this one, not in the condition he's in... but I can't deny he's handy to have around._

Ranma seemed to be holding his own against the remaining three youma, and Shampoo had turned aside to stalk Sailor Moon, so Ukyo figured the best place for her would be helping Akane. _That Senshi's powers are dangerous,_ she thought. _Akane might not be able to handle her on her own. Less risk if we double-team her._

It was a good plan. Unfortunately, it was ended practically before it began. Ukyo had barely taken a few steps before the blue-clad figure of Sailor Mercury interposed herself between the chef and her target. "Stop!" she called out. "I can't let you go past!"

She brought her arms up, crossing them, a glowing blue sphere forming at their intersection. Then she thrust them out. _"Shabon Spray!"_

A wave of mist swept out from the girl. Ukyo braced herself, worried that it might be some kind of attack. But it caused no actual damage, only a cold, clammy sensation that made her shudder. What it _did_ do was flood throughout the cafeteria, reducing visibility to almost nothing.

Behind her, she heard swearing coming out of the mist, both from youma voices as well as from her "masters". The sounds of fighting continued, but they were much slower now, more tentative, and seemed to be moving away. Apparently, neither the Dark Kingdom nor the Nerima contingent were particularly keen on the idea of fighting in such an environment.

Ukyo, however, did not leave. _Interesting power you have here, sugar,_ she thought, as she walked slowly through the fog, her spatula held at the ready. _Could be trouble, actually. I think maybe I'd better deal with you right here and now..._

_

* * *

_

Sailor Mercury took a slow, deep breath as she watched the spatula-wielding youma make her way through the mist. This was going to be... difficult.

Her area-related power was of limited use in a running battle like Sailor Mars was currently engaged in—chasing down the red-robed monster. But she could at least keep _this_ enemy off the other Senshi's back, preventing a two-on-one that she doubted the other girl would be able to handle.

Even so, she knew she couldn't be content with that. The entire world was in the balance, and time was precious. It wasn't enough to simply hold the monster here. Despite her lack of offensive power, this time she would have to fight as best she could. And she would have to do it alone.

Lowering her Mercury Visor down over her eyes, she began to scan the room, switching between several different analysis filters in quick succession.

And then she started to plan.

* * *

By the time Sailor Mercury used her technique, Shampoo had almost trapped Sailor Moon. The blonde Senshi had backed herself into a corner, as her adversary closed in. The younger girl's tiara was gripped in her hands, but she hesitated to throw it. Shampoo smiled. _Is too, too easy. Sailor-girl not even using attack on Shampoo!_

Then came the shout of _"Shabon Spray!"_ and the mist expanded throughout the cafeteria. Sailor Moon immediately bolted, running straight for the center of the fog, clearly intending to hide herself in its cover.

The fleeing girl was fast, but the Joketsuzoku warrioress was able to intercept her before she disappeared from sight. Shampoo's hand shot out, snagging the collar of the Senshi's uniform from behind and dragging her backward with a startled _"Eeep!"_

The mist was still expanding, growing thicker and thicker around them. Keeping a tight grip, Shampoo dragged Sailor Moon kicking and screaming out of the cafeteria, and tossed her down the hallway beyond. Even here, outside the fog, she didn't see Ranma anywhere nearby. The only signs of them were loud crashes and shouts coming from elsewhere.

She sighed, disappointed. As amusing as this Senshi was, she knew she probably ought to wrap this up and go help her Airen with the real fight. Knocking this girl out would be child's play; even if Sailor Moon _had_ been willing to use lethal force, her tiara's single-shot nature made it an extremely bad match against a close quarters martial artist like herself. All she would need was to dodge it once to bring her completely inside her opponent's defenses.

The Senshi was back on her feet now, and Shampoo decided to make her move. Twirling her chui—the large maces that she held in each hand—she ran at the Senshi. She swung one of the weapons down in an overhead strike, controlled to have just enough force to send her opponent to dreamland. Sailor Moon's eyes bulged, as she tried to scramble away—

—and then a rose struck Shampoo's weapon from the side, embedding into the spherical head and knocking it off-course, so that it slammed into the floor instead. A moment later, large cracks began to extend through the chui, centering around the red flower. Then the mace simply shattered in her hands.

Shampoo turned to where the rose had come from, and saw a black-clad man standing in the doorway to one of the classrooms. "Tuxedo Kamen!" she heard the blonde Senshi call out.

"A maiden should not be so quick to cause violence to others," he announced, drawing a black cane as he spoke. "If you persist, then I will stand against you."

With a quick movement, Shampoo tossed her remaining chui from her left hand to her right and swung it up in a defensive position. _So..._ she thought, as she evaluated her new opponent. _Sailor girls is having close-range fighter after all. Maybe this more interesting than Shampoo expect..._

_

* * *

_

Luna sat, trying not to show her anxiety as she split her attention between watching Jadeite and watching the building. She didn't like how long this was stretching out; every second that passed was a seemingly-endless stretch of worry over whether something was happening to her three charges. But aside from the distant sounds of combat, there was nothing. Nothing, save the choking tension.

So when her communicator chirped with its insistent tone, she just about jumped out of her skin. She immediately attempted to bring herself back under control, of course, hoping to regain her composure before Jadeite could notice, but the amused glance he directed down at her showed that she had not been successful.

Muttering under her breath, the moon cat performed a quick backflip, releasing her own communicator from its mystical storage space. It clattered to the ground, and she used her paw to press a button on it, resulting in Sailor Moon's face appearing on the small viewing screen.

_"Luna!"_ the Senshi blurted, over the sounds of fighting coming from behind her. "I really, really need your help! There's someone here we can't attack, and I don't know what to do!"

"Can't attack?" asked Luna, trying to make sense of what the blonde girl was saying. "You mean she has a defense against your magic?"

"No!" Sailor Moon shook her head. "It's... Sailor Mars says that she's been brainwashed! We can't kill her, but she's—" Her voice broke off, the image in the screen going jittery with motion as its holder dove for cover. Luna caught a glimpse of two blurs shooting by, one black, the other flesh-colored, accompanied by the sounds of weapons cracking against each other. Then Sailor Moon's face returned. "—but she's really strong! Tuxedo Kamen's holding her off, but we need to do something!"

"All right. Calm down." Luna thought through all their options as fast as she could. "Did you try the Moon Tiara Stardust attack?"

"The what?"

Luna resisted the urge to smack herself in the face. "The Moon Tiara Stardust attack!" she repeated, exasperation leaking into her voice. "Don't you remember? The Chanela in the pet store? Controlling those children? It was only a month ago!"

The moon cat could almost see the light bulb turning on over the girl's head. "_Oh!_ Yeah! I'll give that a try! Thanks, Luna!" And with a click, the connection was severed.

Luna's shoulders slumped a little, and she let out a small, long-suffering sigh. Above her, Jadeite raised an eyebrow. "I've always wondered," he said at length. "How, exactly, do you put up with a subordinate as... scatterbrained... as she is? She's been irritating enough as an enemy; I can't imagine what she's like as an ally."

The moon cat opened her mouth, fully intending to deliver a snarky reply in line with her usual annoyance with the blonde girl. But she paused, and then looked up at Jadeite. "Keep watching her," the cat said. "She's going to surprise you."

The Dark General snorted. "Believe that if you want. But compared to the DD Girls, I'm not expecting her contribution to be particularly large."

* * *

Ranma's leg whipped around, slamming into the guard of the green youma. Despite her block, he still managed to knock her back through the air a few feet with the sheer force of the impact. From there he spun into a crouch, allowing two sets of tentacles to hiss over him, then hopped back from there as a hail of Ryouga's bandannas shot past and scattered the shooters.

The pigtailed fighter was grinning. As reluctant as he was to have the girls here on the front lines, he had to admit—to himself, at least—that it was a relief to have the Senshi out of his hair. Bad enough to have extra opponents trying to kill him, but when he also needed to keep _them_ from getting hurt at the same time it just got downright ridiculous.

Now, however, it was just him and Ryouga... and five enemies who they simply and without reservation wanted to pummel into submission.

Ranma danced left and right in a loose fighting stance, moving with easy grace as he slipped around the youma attacks with inches to spare. With snarls of frustration, the pink and red youma flew in closer, to give him less time to dodge.

The Anything-Goes heir rewarded the pink youma by darting in to meet her halfway, introducing his left fist to her stomach, followed by his right foot to her face, while Ryouga engaged the red one. Supporting fire from the other three youma quickly drove the martial artists back, but Ranma noted with satisfaction that the pink youma was still unsteady on her feet. _We're wearing them down..._ he thought.

Of course, the two of them weren't exactly in the greatest of shape either. Ranma had close to a dozen gashes on his forearms and torso, and his movements still ached from when they'd hit him with their electricity. And of course, the less said about Ryouga's condition, the better.

Even so, Ranma clung fiercely to his confidence. Not only had the loss of the Senshi reduced their foes' firepower, but their tactics also seemed to have slipped back to the simpler level they had been using at the beginning. They were no longer pulling off the scarily-prescient maneuvers that they had started to employ toward the end.

_Maybe it was the Senshi that were providing the real brains for that stuff..._ Ranma mused, as he dodged. _And if they were... then maybe now these guys will be more likely to fall for a good trick..._

The pigtailed fighter seized hold of the idea. He was certain that if they could really, truly break their enemies' formation, if they could get their entire group into a bad position at once, then he and Ryouga could take them down in a single swoop. It was only a matter of setting that up.

_I just need to think of the right plan..._ he thought, starting to fight more on autopilot as his mind focused on examining possibility after possibility. _Something that'll catch 'em flat-footed..._

_

* * *

_

His hand resting on his bokken, Kuno Tatewaki frowned in thought as he listened to the battles taking place all around throughout his school building. He had considered himself ready for anything when he had followed Akane to Furinkan, but this was... beyond his expectations.

It had begun simply enough. His beloved had stopped outside school grounds, conversing for a while with the okonomiyaki chef and the Chinese barbarian. But then matters had grown stranger. They had donned the most... peculiar costumes, and then ventured forth into battle.

Of course, the proper response to this should still have been obvious—join the battle in support of his love! And yet... from the brief glimpses he had been able to catch without revealing himself, she appeared to be fighting on behalf of the vile Saotome, which gave Kuno pause.

Might these "Sailor Senshi" be here to free these girls from Saotome's control? Except... the Senshi _also_ seemed to be allied with monsters of their own, ones with foul auras and even fouler bearing. Could such warriors really be trusted enough for him to aid them against one of his True Loves?

It was perplexing, even for one of his peerless mental faculties. He considered the problem, agonizing over the possible choices, but to no avail. In the end he decided to remain hidden, watching for the sign that would show him the correct path. He could not afford to make a mistake here.

For whichever side he lent his might to, it would unquestionably decide the outcome of the battle!

* * *

Ukyo moved through the fog-shrouded cafeteria, step by careful step, her spatula held at the ready, her every sense alert. Her eyes searched the shifting, twisting tendrils of mist, trying as hard as she could to pick out shapes. She strained her ears as well, trying to pick out the sound of her quarry over the muffled, distant-sounding noises of the other fights. And she tried to feel the Senshi's presence, to detect her aura.

None of it worked the way it should have. This was no simple fog; it reeked of magic, and it was affecting more senses than just her sight. Sounds seemed to echo from everywhere and nowhere in this soup, and she couldn't sense her foe's presence in the slightest.

Eventually, the chef tried a taunt. "Well?" she demanded. "Are you planning on hiding from me forever?"

The reply she got was a sudden spike of her danger sense. That too was blurred, uncertain, but it was enough for her to whip her spatula around at the last second, striking a projectile out of the air with a sharp _clang._

Ukyo heard it clatter to the ground, and with it that close by she was able to place it. She knelt down to get a better look, and found that it was a large knife, probably taken from the adjoining kitchen. She raised her eyebrows. _Improvised weapons? Does that mean this spray of hers is the only magic she can do?_

The chef could appreciate her opponent's determination in pressing the attack regardless... but unfortunately, her method in doing so held a fatal flaw. Whatever the fog could do to dull her other senses, it couldn't disguise the feel of the impact against her spatula.

She could tell where the knife had been thrown from.

Adjusting her course, she began to move that way. Her eyes flicked left and right, her stance wary, ready to strike or defend at the faintest sign. Soon another knife hissed through the air, this one from further off to her left. Ukyo knocked it away, then lunged in that direction.

Her spatula didn't connect, only swirling the mists around it as it swung through the air, but Ukyo was rewarded by the sound of footsteps scrambling hurriedly away. _Close! I've got her on the run!_

Another knife shot out of the fog, evidently in a panicked attempt to cover her tracks, but Ukyo swatted it aside effortlessly and lunged once more. This time she caught sight of a silhouette, trapped in a corner. The Senshi had nowhere left to run.

Ukyo's spatula whipped around at her elusive quarry—

—and her danger sense abruptly _howled_ at her. She skidded to a halt, fighting for her balance, just barely managing to pull her strike before it hit. Then, as she looked closer, her eyes began to pick out details through the mist.

The silhouette was not Sailor Mercury. It wasn't even human. It was a rough dummy, little more than a few towels and aprons tied around a broomstick in something approaching a human shape, and held upright by...

Ukyo swallowed. The dummy was held upright by the electrical wires that had been ripped out of the wall. Wires that had been wound all around the dummy's broomstick. Wires that her—metal—spatula was within centimeters of biting into.

_"Shabon Spray!"_

Ukyo's blood ran cold. With all her might she flung herself backward, as a second, more concentrated version of Sailor Mercury's spell shot toward her. Focusing, coalescing into a spray of actual water that splashed over the whole area. Including the exposed electrical wiring.

For an instant the fog was lit by a searing flash, as the electricity discharged in an uncontrolled fashion. Ukyo flinched, but her desperate leap had carried her clear just in time. She soared away through the air, eventually falling hard on her back—

—and screaming, as she landed on the countless shards of glass that had been scattered all over that section of the floor. They stabbed into her, shredding her flesh as she skidded across them, until finally she slowed to a stop.

Ukyo bit her lip to keep from screaming again. _She... she must have set this up before..._ the chef realized, trying to form coherent thoughts against the pain. _Probably broke... a window somewhere... or maybe some glassware from the kitchen... laid it all down... for me to hit..._

Then her eyes widened, as she realized the full extent of her opponent's plan. _That... that was why she led me around with the knives! It wasn't just to lead me to her dummy... it was to make sure I came at it from that direction! So even if I jumped away from the electricity in time... I'd still be heading toward the other trap!_

Gritting her teeth, Ukyo fought her way back to her feet, gaining several new cuts in the process of standing. She could feel the blood trickling down her back, could feel the many glass fragments still embedded there.

_And all this without any attacks of her own..._ thought Ukyo, as she bent over to pick up her dropped spatula. Despite the pain she was in, the chef felt an undeniable admiration for the Senshi. _No question about it. This girl is dangerous..._

_

* * *

_

Shampoo hopped back rapidly, managing to keep ahead of Tuxedo Kamen's flurry of cane strikes—if only just. He was fast, almost _too_ fast. She was able to compensate for it with her superior skill, but even that was a near thing.

And a flash of white in the corner of her eye reminded her that he was not the only threat. The sailor-girl's tiara was homing in on her, guided by an invisible force, glowing white dust sprinkling down from underneath it as it shot through the air.

True, according to what the girl had said while talking on her communication device, that dust was only supposed to cure her "brainwashing." But Shampoo didn't know for certain what effect it might have on someone who _wasn't_ actually brainwashed... and she preferred not to find out.

She altered her course to veer out of the tiara's path—and Tuxedo Kamen took the opportunity to dart in closer while her attention was divided. She blocked the first swing of his cane with her remaining chui, but his lighter weapon simply blurred in from another angle, and then another, the attacks coming at an overwhelming rate.

Gritting her teeth, Shampoo abandoned her attempts at defense, allowing the cane to slam painfully into her ribcage. In exchange she latched onto his outstretched arm, spinning in close to him for a throw that flung him over her shoulder and plowed him down into the floor.

She followed immediately by bringing her chui down in a vicious hammer-blow, but the masked man rolled aside, and her strike only blasted a crater into the floor. Tuxedo Kamen sprang away, hurling roses at her with his free hand, while from her left the Moon Tiara was almost on her again.

Shampoo swore in Chinese, dodging frantically under the combined assault. She was able to keep out from under the dust, and even dodge the floral assault at the same time, but it was draining, and she didn't know how long she would be able to keep it up. _Can no fight tuxedo-man while worry about sparkle-disc too!_ she thought. _Need do something quick!_

Then her gaze shifted, locking onto the much less formidable-looking owner of said disc. If she could take her out quickly, it would leave her free to concentrate on the remaining opponent...

Her decision made, Shampoo launched herself in that direction, threading between roses as she ran. A panic-stricken look appeared in the younger girl's eyes at the sight of the warrioress hurtling at her, and she tried to dodge out of the way. She was fast, but her movements were like an open book to Shampoo. The Chinese girl's foot lashed around in a kick, on a perfect intercept course to _exactly_ where her target was going—

—just as Sailor Moon tripped.

The Senshi pitched forward with a cry of _"Aaaugh!"_ into an awkward, unplanned tumble that Shampoo had not anticipated in the slightest, and the kick shot harmlessly over Sailor Moon's head as she rolled underneath. And then Tuxedo Kamen was on Shampoo again, attacking from behind with an overhead swing that she had to twist her chui behind her head to block.

Shampoo retaliated by kicking behind herself, forcing Tuxedo Kamen to hop back a step, even as Sailor Moon was climbing back to her feet. Shampoo tried once more to attack her, bringing her mace down from overhead. The Senshi's eyes bulged and she tried to jump away from the awkward position, so Shampoo automatically carried her lunge closer to compensate—

—except that Sailor Moon never actually _made_ that jump. Without any warning, she lost her balance completely. Her feet slipped out from under her instead... and caught the oncoming Shampoo right in the legs, causing her to tumble forward on top of her.

After being twice so embarrassingly thwarted, Shampoo was now in a nearly spitting fury. She pulled herself up to her hands and knees, grabbing Sailor Moon by the shoulder and pinning the girl underneath her, while raising her fist for a blow that the infuriating pest would _not_ be able to avoid.

Whereupon a rose embedded into her shoulder from behind.

_No!_ Shampoo cursed herself for her carelessness, allowing her anger to blind her to the greater threat for that one fatal second. She tried to move, but found that she was completely paralyzed.

"Sailor Moon, now!" shouted Tuxedo Kamen. The girl nodded vigorously in reply, and then her brow furrowed in concentration. Even as Shampoo struggled to break free, to find some way to escape, the tiara was rising back into the air. Then it launched itself at the two girls, glowing dust still spraying from underneath.

And Shampoo got a little desperate.

She couldn't afford to let the tiara hit her. Even in the very best case, where it had no effect at all, its "failure" might cast doubt on her story, and thus on her Airen's story. And what was more, she flatly refused to let this girl hit her with what _could_ have been a lethal attack, had she so desired.

Projecting ki into objects to strengthen or control them was a simple, common technique among martial artists. It was how Ryouga could make his bandannas into blades, how Kodachi could manipulate her ribbons with such supernatural control, or Ukyo her noodles.

Shampoo couldn't order her limbs to move... but she could still manipulate her life force. She forced her ki through her body in ways it had never been designed to go, saturating her bones and ligaments, clashing against the rose's magic every step of the way. Then she wrenched her arm behind her—not commanding it directly, but rather as though she were a puppeteer, with her entire body the puppet.

She clenched her fingers around the rose, ripped it free of her shoulder in a spray of blood, then dove forward in a roll as the Moon Tiara scattered dust over the area where she had just been. She lurched back to her feet, her entire body twitching, her heartbeat erratic.

_Is not good..._ Shampoo thought, as she backed slowly away from her two opponents, keeping her guard up as best she could. _Shampoo not sure how to win this one..._

_

* * *

_

Lesp looked back and forth at the youma that were packed in next to her on this rooftop, fear churning in her stomach as she waited for the order to charge. Beside her, Cortheia had already formed her both her hands into their large, battle-axe form, ready to go at a moment's notice. Their platoon was standing just inside the patchwork ring of shields and other barriers that protected the main force of the army.

It would soon be their turn to head out there, and take the battle to the enemy.

The youma glanced back over her shoulder, toward the center of their formation, where the youma with more esoteric and dangerous powers were positioned. Then she looked down at her own insignificant weapons: the mantis-like blades sprouting from her arms. As far as combat abilities went, Lesp was all too aware that she and Cortheia were nothing but the most common, basic infantry—grunts that could be expended to keep the heavy hitters safe.

_It's not fair!_ she thought, clenching her fists so tight that she felt pain shoot up her arms. _We shouldn't even be here!_ The two of them had the power of transformation, something valuable enough in its own right that it ought to have kept them off the front lines in all but the most dire of situations.

She didn't know what had panicked Jadeite to the point of attacking Nerima with every single youma he had in the human world, but there was no way it could be good. Not for the Dark Kingdom, and certainly not for her.

"Stand ready!" came a shout from up ahead. A few seconds later the shields and barriers in their path lowered. And, with a roar, their group charged through the opening and into the war zone.

A hail of arrows greeted them, arcing up from the ground below, from behind one of the buildings. One shaft flew toward Lesp, but a swing of Cortheia's axe-hands hacked it in two before it reached her.

The youma defended themselves as best they could, though several did fall screaming, impaled with arrows they had not managed to deflect. Lesp expected their platoon to attack the group firing at them, but they instead angled away. They leapt from rooftop to rooftop, taking fire all the while, and soon Lesp saw the target they were rushing toward.

It was one of the tiny crones. She was about a block away, standing on a different roof, surrounded by another group of youma. They were throwing themselves at her, attacking from every direction at once, like a pack of starving animals.

She was slaughtering them. As fast as they attacked, they died. Her cane flickered back and forth, each strike ripping straight through whatever youma it hit, choking the air around her with a cloud of flying youma dust.

"Attack! Keep her busy!" came the order, shouted over the din. Lesp was terrfied at the idea of getting anywhere near there, terrified at the thought of confronting such a monster. But there was nothing for it. She ran on, carried forward by her fellows surrounding her.

Up ahead, the ancient human drove one hand like a spear through the skull of a youma in front of her, while simultaneously stabbing her cane behind herself to impale another. Then she spun, whipping the cane in a full circle and tearing three more youma in half. And she ended her spin facing directly at Lesp's platoon, her palm thrusting out toward them.

Lesp couldn't _see_ anything cover the distance between them and their enemy, but there was a sound like a thunderclap, and they were hammered by a blast of air that crashed into the mass of charging youma. Lesp screamed in pain—or would have, if the impact hadn't driven all the air from her lungs.

Before she had consciously registered it she was flung through the air, earth and sky spinning over and over each other, in her vision. She plummeted off the roof and down to the ground below, landing with a bone-jarring crash amidst the falling bodies of her fellows.

She convulsed, trying to groan in agony and gasp for breath at the same time. Even so, she knew that simply staying here could easily lead to her death. Rolling slowly, she managed to work herself up to her knees and look around.

Youma were strewn everywhere. The ones who had been at the front of the formation—the ones who had taken the full force of the attack—were by far the worst off. Lesp saw many broken and twisted limbs, while others were simply missing, most likely reduced to dust outright.

Cortheia staggered to her feet a little bit further down the street, looking around as though trying to piece together what had just happened. She didn't seem to be too badly injured, though. Then, turning, Lesp looked over to where their enemy was.

The human was still fighting, her cane hacking into youma from what was left of her original opponents, as well as a handful of Lesp's own group that had not been caught in her attack. The youma were dropping like flies, none of them even managing to lay a finger on their target.

And then, without warning, _all_ the combatants were crushed down into the roof they had been standing on.

_That power! It must be Dalthet!_ Lesp realized, looking around until she located her ally, standing atop one of the other buildings with both her arms extended toward her target. The youma was short, mostly white, with long black stripes winding around her body. She had the power to drastically increase the pull of gravity over a limited area, and the battle had allowed her to creep close enough to activate it.

The rooftop that held the crone and the youma that had been fighting her quickly began to crack, the stress fractures spreading throughout the structure. The bodies of the combatants were crushed down through the roof, and then with a roar, the entire building collapsed under its own weight in a rain of debris.

Cortheia stumbled toward the wreckage to get a closer look, and Lesp followed hesitantly, a few steps behind. None of the youma had risen; all were held prone by the power their comrade was still exerting. The old human, however, had managed to rise to one knee, her limbs trembling but her eyes alert as she looked around, her gaze finally settling on where Dalthet stood.

Dalthet gritted her teeth, increasing gravity's pull even more. Lesp heard wet snapping noises start to come from the youma still caught in the field, their bodies convulsing, some crumbling to dust. But the human remained unbowed, though it was clearly taking a colossal effort from her.

A half-dozen youma leaped down from the rooftops, taking up a semi-circle formation at the edges of Dalthet's power. Recognizing them, Lesp knew why they had been kept safely back until now. _They all have energy attacks!_ she thought. _Anything physical would get crushed to the ground before it reaches her, but they should be able to shoot through it!_

Without waiting, all six of them opened fire, unleashing blasts and beams of all different colors toward their target. At the same time, however, the old human raised her fist, then slammed it straight down. The blow blasted a crater into the ground, and she let herself fall into its cover, the energy blasts criss-crossing through the air overhead.

As Lesp watched, the tiny human closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath as her face took on a look of concentration. Then, raising a single finger, the human gave the ground next to her a gentle tap.

A split-second later, the ground just _behind_ the six youma exploded, sending them flying through the air... and straight into the gravity field. They were crushed down to earth instantly, all but two of them dying on the spot.

The old crone continued to tap the ground, rhythmically, unstoppably. Explosions began to blast away at the building Dalthet was standing on, causing it to list ominously. _She's going to take out the foundation!_ Lesp realized. Dalthet's face had taken on a look of terror, as she fought with all her concentration and focus to keep her power from slipping, despite the successive blows to her balance.

Grabbing Cortheia by the arm, Lesp dragged the other youma into a flying lunge for cover—no, not cover, a hiding place—in one of the nearby stores. They crashed through the door, rolling over each other. Lesp ended up on top, holding Cortheia down with a hand clamped over her mouth. A few moments later there was a roar, as the building Dalthet had been standing on finally collapsed.

And then the screams started.

It seemed to go on forever. Howls, crashes, explosions, and even more horrible sounds that Lesp didn't want to know the source of. They could only listen, both trembling together, as the carnage raged outside. Then there was silence. Dead silence.

They remained there for another seeming eternity. At last, Lesp felt brave enough to creep over to one of the windows, peeking outside. There were no youma left alive that she could see, only strewn wreckage and gaping craters blasted into the concrete.

"Lesp..." came Cortheia's troubled voice from behind her. "Why did you do that? We should have—"

"It wouldn't have made any difference," Lesp said, still feeling numb as she looked out at the ruined street. "Attacking something like _that_, for youma of our level... it just can't be done. It's stupid to even try."

She shuddered, then turned to face Cortheia. "Come on," she said, hoping that the other youma would understand the necessity of what she had done. "It's not safe out here. We need to get back to the main formation. We can report what happened. That'd be more useful to the Dark Kingdom than just dying—right?"

Cortheia chewed her lip a little, then nodded. "I... I guess you're right. I'm sorry, Lesp. I always make you keep pointing these things out to me."

"It's nothing," Lesp replied, shifting uncomfortably. "Just stay close. We don't want to run into any of their attack groups."

The other youma nodded, and then the two of them darted out into the street together, attempting to sneak back to their army.

* * *

Bursts of magical fire roared down the hall, even the misses scorching Akane with their heat. The martial artist dodged and swerved, trying to find an opportunity to counterattack, but the shots were coming too fast. Even hanging back at this distance, it was all she could do to avoid them.

Then Sailor Mars took a deep breath, and Akane knew something big was coming. The Senshi released a huge stream of flame, sweeping it in a wide arc across the hallway.

Akane was already running. She shot down the corridor with all the speed she could muster, fully aware that her life depended on it. She reached the corner and swung around it, a split-second before the attack caught up. Behind her, the fire tore through the wall, out of the building and into the yard outside. But Akane was gone, and only slightly singed.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor for the moment, she kept on running, taking a few quick twists and turns that she hoped would throw the Senshi off her trail. She needed to regroup, needed to come up with a new plan.

She rounded another corner, and found her path blocked by a sea of mist, of all things. Puzzled, she halted for a moment. Then, without warning, Ukyo leaped out of the fog, nearly colliding with her.

The okonomiyaki chef was a mess. Her costume was disheveled, her arms were slick with trails of blood, and that was just what could be seen from this angle.

"Akane!" Ukyo said, looking the other girl up and down, taking in her own somewhat charred appearance. "So I'm not the only one having a few setbacks?"

The Tendo girl nodded. Without wasting time in further talk, the two girls darted off again, finding one of the more out-of-the-way classrooms. They ducked inside, hoping to catch their breath and recover.

It was only then that they noticed the room's third occupant. Shampoo was slumped against the far wall, clutching at a wound in her shoulder. "You too?" asked Akane, raising an eyebrow.

Shampoo made a face in reply. "Only happen because sailor-girl and tuxedo-man is attacking Shampoo two-on-one," she groused. "What _you_ excuse?"

"Hey, that girl wouldn't stand a chance if I could just _find_ her!" shot back Ukyo defensively. "But she's just too slippery. Unless we can figure out where she is, there's no way to pull it off."

The Joketsuzoku warrioress paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face, and then she glanced back up. "Then you let Shampoo handle sneaky-girl," she offered. "Shampoo maybe have way to take care of her..."

Ukyo's eyebrows went up a little. She considered it for a moment, then snapped her fingers. "Sure, why not?" she said. "Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind taking a crack at Little Miss Flamethrower instead. There's something I'd like to try on her as well..."

Akane glanced back and forth between the two other girls, feeling fresh hope rising within her. Things hadn't been going well so far, but it sounded like they had a better shot now. They had plans for dealing with two of the Senshi now, which only left...

...wait a minute.

"What about _me?_" she asked. Fighting Sailor Mars had been bad enough, but now the remaining opponents were Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen. And if they were good enough to put _Shampoo_ on the run...

"Don't worry, Akane," said Ukyo, in an attempt at placation. "Just... try and distract them for a little bit. Keep them busy. We'll finish our fights as quickly as we can, and come back to help you."

"Beside!" put in Shampoo. "Sailor-girl dodge many attack using klutz-based dodging technique. Maybe it not work so well on other klutz!"

"_What_ did you call—?" began Akane heatedly. But the other two girls were already leaping for the door. Shampoo glanced back over her shoulder, pulling one eyelid down and stick out her tongue as she left.

* * *

Sailor Mercury looked down at her computer, pressing keys rapidly as she analyzed the situation as it now stood. Her initial opponent had fled, and she had allowed her Shabon Spray to dissipate, resting from her excessive use of the power while she scanned the area to determine her next move.

Scanning for youma readings showed the five DD Girls still alive and fighting. Switching the computer to scan for human lifesigns instead showed eight of them—no losses for either side, then.

More troubling was the fact that, in her scan, the "monsters" they had been fighting seemed to be giving off human readings. What did it mean? Could it be that those two were also victims of the Dark Lords' control somehow?

Chewing her lip, the Senshi watched the readout. Suddenly, she noticed that the clump of three human readings was breaking apart, each heading in different directions. In fact, one was moving very quickly toward—

Her eyes widened, and she leaped backward as fast as she could. The next instant, the wall in front of her exploded inward as Shampoo came smashing through it, her mace swinging. The girl landed right where Sailor Mercury had been standing. "_Nihao_, sneaky-girl," she said pleasantly. "Is Shampoo you is having to fight now."

_"Shabon Spray!"_ the Senshi replied, getting her defense back up as quickly as possible. Shampoo lunged at the source of the fog, but Sailor Mercury managed to vacate that spot before she arrived.

Within seconds, the entire room was filled with the concealing mist. Sailor Mercury's vision, however, was unhindered, and she marked Shampoo's position without difficulty. The girl was looking back and forth, turning in place, searching fruitlessly.

Which brought them to something of a stalemate. Shampoo couldn't find her... but Sailor Mercury wasn't willing to employ the kind of tactics she had been using against her previous opponent either. They needed to deal with the threat of the brainwashed girl, of course. The question was... how?

"You don't have to do this," the Senshi called out, her voice echoing through the fog. If she couldn't attack directly, then maybe she could get through with words. "Please! This 'Ranma' is controlling you! You have to fight it!"

Shampoo lunged at where she thought the voice was coming from, but the distortion of the Shabon Spray was too good. She missed, even as Sailor Mercury moved further away. Spinning around, Shampoo shouted back her reply. "Sneaky-girl no talk bad about Master Ranma!"

The Senshi made sure she had sufficient distance, then tried again. "It's the truth! He's just using you! He wants to take over our whole planet!"

Once again Shampoo lunged, but her attack met with no more success than before. "Whole planet not matter! Only thing matter is commands of Master Ranma! Master Ranma is _everything_ to Shampoo! Nothing else important!"

"You can't mean that," Sailor Mercury insisted. "What about the people who love you? Your friends, your family... your great-grandmother is worried about you!"

And, as she said the words, the Senshi noticed a reaction in Shampoo, one that sent a surge of hope through her. It was very slight... but she was sure that she had seen Shampoo _flinch_ at those last few words.

"Great... grandmother?" the girl said, hesitantly. Then she shook her head, swinging her weapon through the air in an angry arc. "_No!_ Great-grandmother not matter anymore! Sneaky-girl is... is trying to confuse Shampoo!"

_That's it!_ Sailor Mercury realized. _The love between her and her great-grandmother... It might be enough to break through the brainwashing!_

It was her one chance to save this girl's life, and she was determined to give it everything she had. "Your great-grandmother _loves_ you, Shampoo," she repeated firmly. "You have to know she does! Ranma is trying to turn you against her, against your whole world! _Please,_ Shampoo! Don't let him win!"

Her words caused Shampoo to stagger back, as though they were physical blows. The girl raised one hand, clutching at her head. "It... so hard..." she whispered. "Why? Why Shampoo not remember? It... hurt... to think of time before. It hurt... to think of... of..." Her weapon tumbled from her fingers, clattering to the ground as she doubled over, clawing at her head with both hands now.

"You can do it!" Sailor Mercury urged, putting all her hope and encouragement behind the girl's desperate struggle for her soul. "Think of your great-grandmother. Think of all the people who care about you! Ranma is trying to hurt all of them! He's trying to enslave them, Shampoo!"

The girl's face contorted into a mask of pain. She let out a heart-rending scream, then crumpled to her knees, curling up in a fetal ball. "Hurt... hurt so much..." she sobbed, her body jerking, convulsing, her hands still clamped around her head. "Someone... please... _someone help Shampoo!_"

Sailor Mercury rushed forward, kneeling down next to the girl and wrapping her arms around her. "It's all right..." she whispered soothingly, wishing she could somehow absorb the pain Shampoo was feeling. "I'm here. I won't leave you alone. You can overcome this. I know it."

The Senshi's presence seemed to have a calming effect on Shampoo. The girl moved a trembling hand to Sailor Mercury's own hand, linking their fingers together in a tight grip, as though she were hanging on for dear life. Her spasms began to subside, and her breathing gradually returned to normal.

Sailor Mercury continued to hold her, eventually speaking up once more. "Are you all right, Shampoo?"

Slowly, shakily, Shampoo began to raise her head. It took a few moments, but she finally reached the point of looking Sailor Mercury in the eyes...

...allowing the Senshi to see the predator's gleam that was burning there, along with her smug, self-satisfied smile.

"Yes, sneaky-girl..." she purred. "Shampoo is very, _very_ all right..."

Sailor Mercury's heart clenched in sudden fear, and she tried frantically to leap away, but her foe's grip on her hand did not budge one inch as she fought to escape. Then Shampoo yanked her in close, reaching around with her other hand to deliver a swift, surgical chop to the back of the Senshi's neck.

She crumpled, as consciousness fled.

* * *

Sailor Mars ran down the hall, head turning left and right as she searched for the monster she had been fighting. But there was no sign of her. Had her enemy run away altogether? Or was she still out there, waiting to strike in an unguarded moment?

Her thoughts on the matter were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice from behind her. "Found you."

The Senshi whirled, and saw the other monster standing there, the one with the flour-white skin—though blood had now changed that coloring in places. She began to advance on Sailor Mars, talking as she drew nearer. "Sorry sugar, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you down for a little bit."

"Try it!" Sailor Mars clasped her hands together, launching a fireball at the approaching enemy. She'd had the upper hand against the first monster she'd faced, and would deal with this one in the same way. The burning projectile blazed through the air, racing unerringly toward its target.

Whereupon its target unslung the giant spatula on her back, and swung it straight through the attack.

It was a mighty blow, the large surface area of the weapon ripping through the air with incredible force and speed. It tore the oncoming blast apart, leaving only swirling tendrils of flame that wreathed the path of her swing.

"Using fire against a Kuonji battle spatula?" Sailor Mars heard the monster ask. "Not a good idea. What kind of cook would I _be_ if my tools couldn't handle the heat?"

Sailor Mars paled a little at the complete annihilation of her attack. _This... isn't good..._ she thought. She began to back away hurriedly, charging up for an even bigger blast.

But the monster didn't seem inclined to give her the chance. She shot toward the Senshi, causing Sailor Mars to jump back in panic, snapping off a few quick shots as she did. _She's fast!_

Within moments the fight had turned into a rout. Not only was this new opponent able to completely and utterly negate Sailor Mars' attacks, but it was becoming clear that this one's fighting ability was on a different level than the previous one. She hounded the Senshi without pause, her spatula sweeping away what few blasts Sailor Mars managed to snap off.

Sailor Mars ran, sprinting away as fast as she could. She could hear no footsteps behind her, and for a moment she wondered if the monster had abandoned the chase.

Then there was a hissing noise, and she felt something wind around her legs, sending her toppling forward. Belatedly she caught sight of what it was, some kind of bola, constructed from two spatulas connected by what looked like a rope of noodles.

She fell, but she rolled with it, making the most of her momentum. It carried her further away, and back up to her knees, fingers leveled at her foe.

The monster was already coming at her. She had gained some distance, and she had been charging her power the whole way there, but she knew that she would get only one shot. Calling on all her passion, fear and desperation, she poured it all into a single yell. _"Fire Soul!"_

And fire answered her call, exploding from her fingertips in a wide, angry stream, bearing down directly at her attacker. The monster did not slack her pace, merely raised her spatula as a shield and continued to barrel straight forward.

They collided, the Senshi's attack breaking around the monster's weapon as the latter charged forward relentlessly, carving a wedge right down the middle of the blazing torrent.

And then the monster reached the source of the flame. Sailor Mars tried to retreat, scrambling away from the now-superheated spatula, but her legs were still entangled in the noodle-bola... and the monster was on her too quickly.

A short, low kick knocked her legs out from under her. Nor did the monster stop there. Tossing aside her weapon, she caught Sailor Mars before she hit the ground, her arm winding around the Senshi's neck in a sleeper hold.

Sailor Mars fought desperately to draw in a breath, but she couldn't. The monster's grip was perfect, choking her. The young girl tried to use her magic, but fire had hardly even begun to appear at her fingertips before the monster used her free hand to strike the Senshi's arm away.

Fear began to take hold, as second after second after went by without any air. The Senshi's struggles became even more frantic, thrashing back and forth as she tried to free herself, but the monster was far too strong.

Black spots began to swim across her blurring vision, and she began to claw in panic at the arm holding her, but to no avail. She could feel her movements becoming weaker, less controlled. Until finally, with one last hopeless attempt to escape, she slumped forward into the dark void of unconsciousness.

* * *

His cape billowing out behind him, Tuxedo Kamen dashed at the most recent monster to attack them, the red-robed one with the demon mask. He swung his cane around at her head, and she ducked under it—but that had been a feint to begin with.

As she crouched, he drove his foot lightning-fast into her stomach, kicking her into the air. Then he spun, driving his cane into her chest, sending her flying back into the blackboard of the classroom they were fighting in.

There had been a moment of concern when this new opponent had presented herself, after the previous one had escaped, but it had turned out to be unfounded. The Shampoo girl had been a far more formidable fighter.

Not to mention they had no reason to hold back against this one.

_"Moon Tiara Action!"_ The mystic disc arced toward the monster, who responded by reaching behind herself and ripping the remains of the blackboard off the wall, swinging it into the oncoming projectile.

The ancient weapon tore through it, but the impact had been enough to alter its course, missing its target and embedding in the wall instead. The monster then hurled what was left of the blackboard at them, forcing them to leap to either side of it. Their opponent took the opportunity to charge at Sailor Moon.

Tuxedo Kamen, however, had no intention of allowing this battle to drag on. It was clear how it would end, but they could not afford to waste time, considering the stakes. He readied a rose to hand, preparing it with the most deadly enchantment he could manage, and flung it at the monster.

She must have sensed it coming, for she twisted in mid-step, flinging herself away from the weaponized flora. It was not enough for it to miss her... but it did give her a few extra fractions of a second, enough for her to whip her hand around in a desperate attempt to intercept the projectile.

Her fingers clamped down on the stem, managing to arrest the flower's flight mere centimeters from her face. She skidded to a stop, her shoulders heaving from the close call. Meanwhile, Sailor Moon had recovered her tiara and was ready to throw it again, while Tuxedo Kamen was preparing another rose to throw...

_"Hold!"_

...when suddenly, an angry voice thundered out from behind them. Whirling around, Tuxedo Kamen saw the source. A young man—apparently human—standing in the doorway, brandishing a wooden sword at him with an expression of fury on his features.

Before the masked man had a chance to take in this new development, the strange kendoist continued to speak. "So at last you reveal your intentions, miscreant!" he called out. "I had thought you might be an ally of justice, fighting the beauteous Tendo Akane only to free her from the clutches of the vile Saotome. But now I perceive your _true_ motives in this undertaking!"

He then stabbed his bokken toward the rose that the monster even now held clutched in her hands. "Do you truly think I would stand idly by while you bestow upon my love _yonder token of affection?_"

Behind his mask, Tuxedo Kamen blinked. He opened his mouth to speak. Then he paused, realizing he didn't quite _have_ a response to that. Then he blinked again. "Token of... _what?_" he finally managed to say. "How on earth could you possibly think—"

"Silence!" shouted the insane kendoist. "For the honor of Tendo Akane, I, Kuno Tatewaki, challenge you! Prepare yourself!" And with that he threw himself at Tuxedo Kamen, his sword blurring in a storm of furious thrusts.

The tuxedo-clad fighter's eyes went wide, caught off guard by the speed of the attack. He had underestimated the boy's threat, assuming him to be a normal—if apparently delusional—human. But he was far faster than Tuxedo Kamen had anticipated, and the masked man almost didn't react in time. Even as he jumped back, cursing his carelessness, he felt as though he were still missing something...

...and then, too late, he realized what it was. _No! The air pressure!_ he thought, an instant before the first spike of air slammed into his torso. This attack's danger wasn't just in the physical blows; the strikes were sending powerful bursts of focused air from the tip of his sword each time he stabbed it.

Tuxedo Kamen was battered by countless phantom blows, their force causing him pain even through the supernatural shielding of his transformation. He flew backward, and his new enemy exploited the opening to lunge in and land a _direct_ thrust.

The strike blasted Tuxedo Kamen back through the wall, and into the adjoining classroom. He landed hard, plowing through the students' desks and chairs, scattering them. A moment later, the kendoist leaped through the new hole in the wall, bokken upraised, and brought it down straight toward the masked man's head.

Tuxedo Kamen brought his cane up, the two weapons crashing together. Pain flared in his side at the impact, from where the bokken had struck him before, and he staggered away. His opponent pressed the attack, sword blurring as it hammered at him from every angle. His cane blurred to match, the sound of the collisions cracking through the air like shots from a machine gun.

Step by step, the injured fighter was driven back. His ribs protested with every blow he blocked, with every move he made, but he knew he could not afford to dwell on the pain. He had to deal with this lunatic, and return to Sailor Moon's side.

Somehow...

* * *

Ukyo jogged through the hallways of the school, searching for Akane. It was painful going; now that she was out of the thick of combat, the countless cuts that Sailor Mercury's trap had inflicted were no longer as content to be ignored. But she ignored them anyway, continuing her search for her rival in love.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her spin around, but rather than Akane, it was Shampoo who she saw there. The Chinese girl was wearing a satisfied smile, like a cat that had just eaten a canary. "Things went well?" asked Ukyo.

Shampoo nodded vigorously. "Sneaky-girl is taking long nap now."

"Same here," Ukyo said, privately curious as to just how the other girl had managed it, but unwilling to admit so. "Now it's just Akane we need to find—and quick."

Shampoo gave the chef a speculative glance. "No _have_ to hurry..." she offered. "Maybe we arrive just little bit too late? Fifty-fifty odds is better than one in three... and it have Airen needing much comforting over too, too tragic turning of events..."

Ukyo shot back a dirty look. "_No_," she said. "Now come on, or I'll tell your 'Airen' you were dragging your feet."

With a disappointed sigh, Shampoo followed in Ukyo's wake, the two girls making their way through the school. Soon, Ukyo drew to a stop, her eyebrows going up a little in surprise.

"Huh," she said at last. "I guess it really _doesn't_ work as well on another klutz..."

Akane and Sailor Moon were both in the classroom before them, fighting each other. Or rather, Akane was fighting, while Sailor Moon was trying frantically not to get hit. The Tendo girl was completely dominating the fight, keeping her opponent entirely on the defensive.

Not that the Senshi's defense was working particularly well. She was flailing and stumbling this way and that, in a series of dodges that Ukyo had to admit would be quite hard to anticipate, if only because they did not spring from any actual _intent_ of the girl's that could be predicted. She slipped and twisted and fumbled, all in a dizzyingly random pattern.

Akane, however, simply saw through it all. She moved as though she had an... instinctive understanding... of where the blonde girl would go next. She circled, jabbed, feinted, methodically driving the Senshi into a position where she could force her to the ground, pinning her there with an armlock and a knee resting on her back.

Ukyo glanced over at Shampoo, an amused smile on her face. "Well, that makes one apiece, I guess."

To which the Joketsuzoku girl replied with an irritated huff, and some indistinct grumbling about the kitchen destroyer just picking off the easy ones.

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen was, by nature, a level-headed man.

Cool and collected even in deadly situations, some of his most notable characteristics included his aloof mystery and his unflappable composure. He had demonstrated this time and again in countless battles against the Dark Kingdom.

That said, he had never been forced to go up against a member of the Kuno family before.

"Hah! So even now you persist in your attempts to stand against my invincible blade? So be it! Your strength will make the glory of my inevitable victory all the sweeter in the eyes of my beloved."

The masked fighter's eye twitched, just a little, at what was only the latest bombastic pronouncement he'd had to endure. He spun to one side, swinging a blow around at Kuno's head while a downward strike from the kendoist carved a gash into the floor where he had just been.

Tuxedo Kamen's attack connected, sending Kuno back a few paces, but the young man recovered in time to parry the cane's follow-up strike. Then the kendoist counterattacked, forcing his opponent to backpedal under another shower of blows.

The tuxedo-clad warrior weaved back and forth, slipping in his own thrusts where he could. Some of them connected, but his opponent deflected most of them. "Your 'beloved' is a monster out to enslave the entire earth!" he replied as he fought.

"How ridiculous!" Kuno paused in his attack to snort. "Truly you are mad, to even suggest such a thing! But I cannot be fooled by such absurd delusions!" He lunged at Tuxedo Kamen again, prompting the masked man to leap clear, rolling backward across the top of a school desk. Once he landed on the other side, the magical warrior kicked the desk across the floor at the oncoming kendoist. Kuno slashed it in half, the two pieces shooting past him on either side to crash into the wall.

Tuxedo Kamen backed away, breathing hard and clutching at his side with his free hand. The damage he had taken earlier was costing him dearly now, sapping his strength and slowing his speed. He _had_ to resolve this quickly. He needed to get back to Sailor Moon!

Kuno resumed his charge—and this time, Tuxedo Kamen ran to meet him. The two fighters clashed, weapons attacking and defending at a breathtaking pace as they dodged and circled around each other. The injured warrior knew he couldn't keep this up for long. But he was just waiting for one chance, one crucial opportunity...

And then he got it. Kuno slammed his blade down on his foe's faltering guard, and—perhaps sensing that victory was near—continued to press that attack. Bokken and cane locked together, grinding against each other as Tuxedo Kamen's defense was forced backward, inch by inch. His arms were trembling, and his ribs felt like they were about to explode into flame...

...and then, with a simple twist of his wrist, Tuxedo Kamen produced a rose and stabbed it directly into Kuno's nearby hand.

The boy froze, his entire body going rigid. The masked warrior let out a sigh of relief—but he knew that this was not quite over. The only enchantment he had put on that rose was one of paralysis; this boy, like Shampoo, seemed to be a human that had somehow been ensnared by these Dark Lords' plans for conquest, and he didn't want to _kill_ him.

Slightly tempting though the idea might seem.

"Yuuu... flll..." The barely-intelligible words, forced from paralyzed lips, caused Tuxedo Kamen to boggle with incredulity. Could _nothing_ stop this one from talking? "Thsss... trckry... wlll nut... hlld me... frr lung... I shlll... visst th... vngnce of hvn... un yuuu..."

At any rate, he needed to finish taking Kuno out—and quickly. Sailor Moon might need his help, not to mention that the paralysis would not last forever. And this foe had already demonstrated unnatural durability to match his speed and strength.

"Yuu... wlll ruu... th dyy... yuu mde... nn enmy... uff th Bluu Thndr!" Kuno went on, his voice starting to return as the paralysis began to wane. "You... will be as... the flimsiest chaff... before my might!"

Tuxedo Kamen leveled his cane directly at his foe's solar plexus. "Kuno Tatewaki," he said, as he braced himself. "In the name of love and justice..."

With a mental command, his cane extended with blinding speed, slamming into the kendoist with all the force it possessed. The weapon continued to stretch out, driving Kuno back through the wall behind him, then through the wall behind that, then through the wall behind _that_, finally embedding him in the fourth wall. Everything was still for a moment, and then Tuxedo Kamen retracted the cane, allowing Kuno to flop downward, out cold.

"...shut up," finished the masked man under his breath.

* * *

Sailor Moon kicked, screamed and struggled, but none of it was doing any good. The monster had her pinned to the ground, and try as she might, she couldn't even come close to dislodging her. She tried to call her tiara back from wherever it had landed, and she heard it rising into the air behind her, but the monster immediately applied just a little more torque to her arm, and any thoughts of controlling her weapon were lost in a sudden burst of "Ow ow ow ow _ow!_"

_This is bad..._ the Senshi thought, her mind racing in circles. _This is bad this is bad this is bad..._ Fear was a normal part of any fight, for her, but this was quickly descending into flat-out panic. Tuxedo Kamen had been knocked through the wall by that weird sword guy, and now this monster had her right where she wanted her.

_She's gonna kill me!_ was the realization that flashed through the terrified young girl's mind. _She's gonna kill me, she's gonna kill me, she's gonna kill me!_

And then, leaping back through the hole his own body had made in the wall, came Tuxedo Kamen. Sailor Moon's heart swelled with hope as he shot toward them, his cane swinging down in a furious arc...

...just as another blur shot across her vision, and with a resounding _clang_, the cane was blocked by a huge metal spatula. "Sorry," came the voice of the other monster they had been fighting. "Not today."

Tuxedo Kamen opened his mouth to reply—but then suddenly leapt away. Not quite fast enough, though, as Shampoo's mace swing still managed to clip the side of his head. He tumbled backward along the floor, eventually stopped by a wall, which he used to pull himself unsteadily back to his feet.

"Oh, is tuxedo-man!" the brainwashed girl chirped, her voice full of saccharine sweetness. "Tuxedo-man not mind fighting _two-on-one_, yes? Turning around is fair play, no?"

Sailor Moon had thought she had felt despair before, but now the bottom dropped out of her heart. These were the ones that her friends had been fighting. But... if they were _here_, then that meant...

That meant...

A sob broke free of her lips, and she began to cry, uncaring of who saw it. No, no, this couldn't be happening. It had to all be some kind of horrible nightmare...

The Sailor Senshi were defeated. Her friends were most likely dead. The world was going to end soon.

And at this point, their only hope was in the youma of the Dark Kingdom.

* * *

Modra fired her tentacles down the hall, and was answered immediately by a flight of a half-dozen spinning bandannas. Zelen and Fialova shot them out of the air, providing Cerven and Ruzova the cover they needed to advance from the protection of one doorway to the one beyond it.

The battle had raged the length and breadth of the school, fighting up the stairs to the second, and now the third floor. And now the youma were closing in for the kill. Modra could feel it.

They had pinned the two Dark Lords in one of the classrooms, and were slowly crushing their enemies' defensive action—which consisted solely of the one with the bladed cloth firing back at them from his own doorway. But he had already used his belt, and his bandannas they knew how to deal with now.

The DD Girls fought their way forward, until at last it was time for the final push. All five of them unleashed their tentacles at once, ripping apart the entire doorway and surrounding walls. Ryouga barely managed to jump clear in time, diving back into the room as the youma swooped in after him.

Modra snapped her arms up, ready to fire—and then hesitated, a sudden apprehension gripping her. They had chased both Dark Lords into this room, cornered them, prepared to taste ultimate victory over them...

...so why was there only _one_ of them here?

Her eyes were drawn to Ryouga's left, over to the open window leading to the outside of the building, and a horrible suspicion began to dawn on her. _"Scatter!"_ she screamed to the other youma. _"It's a tra—"_

Before she could finish the word there was a splintering sound, and then the floor underneath Ruzova's feet burst upward as a teacher's desk exploded through it from from the room below, crushing her into the ceiling. A split-second later, Ranma leaped up through the hole he had made, taking a stance between them and the exit. With a startled cry, the other four DD Girls whirled to face the sudden attack...

...which, of course, meant that they had turned their backs on Ryouga.

The turban-wearing Dark Lord thus had a perfect opening to slam his fist, full-force, directly between Fialova's shoulder blades. The punch blasted her straight at Ranma—straight into a kick that sent her crashing back into Modra herself.

The two youma tumbled over each other, Modra ending up on top of her convulsing subordinate. Zelen and Cerven had split up, each harrying one of the enemies, but they couldn't last long in a straight one-on-one. Even as Modra pulled herself to her feet she saw Ryouga bull-rush Cerven, driving her back through the air.

The youma kicked off of him, trying to get some distance... but in doing so, she flew back into Ranma's range, who slammed an axe kick down from above to smash her head deep into the floor.

Zelen tried to take advantage of the distraction by attacking Ranma's flank, but the pigtailed overlord ducked, allowing the tentacles to shoot harmlessly over him. The next instant, Zelen took a haymaker from Ryouga to the side of her head, which he followed with a dozen more punches that hammered her jerking body back through the air, until she finally fell in a crumpled heap.

And then both of them turned to face Modra.

The leader of the DD Girls looked in a panicked circle around her, at what remained of her elite force. Of Ruzova, embedded in the ceiling, nothing but her arm could be seen, twitching occasionally. Cerven was trying to get back to her hands and knees, without much success. Fialova and Zelen were both completely motionless. Modra opened her mouth to say something—anything—but no words came.

Ranma smiled a very large smile. Ryouga began to crack his knuckles.

* * *

Jadeite let out an annoyed sigh, abandoning his concentration on searching for the Dark Lords' magical artifact. "Must you keep pacing so?" he asked the moon cat.

Said cat, however, did not stop at all. If anything, her anxious pacing increased speed. At last, she spoke. "Something's wrong. They've been in there too long. Something's happened!"

The Dark General sighed in irritation, but all the same, he could not resist the opportunity to twist the knife a little. "Doubting your soldiers already?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose it's only natural, given their pathetic level of ability..."

A look of pure venom was the cat's reply. Jadeite chuckled. In truth, the long delay was worrying him as well, but he had no intention of showing anything less than confidence before his enemy. "Well, however little faith you have in your warriors, I have the utmost confidence in mine," he stated. "The DD Girls are some of the finest youma shock troops in the whole Dark Kingdom. They are doubtless dealing with matters even as we speak. I'm quite certain that we'll see them coming back out any sec—"

He was cut off by a loud crash, causing both man and cat to whip their heads up to the topmost floor of the school building, in time to see the wall explode outward as the limp body of Modra was smashed through it. The youma fell in a long, three-story swan dive, amidst the shower of broken wood and plaster, finally hitting the concrete below with a sickening thud.

Even before she landed there were additional crashes, as other sections of the wall were demolished by having youma plowed through them. The pink, green and purple DD Girls all received the same treatment, while the red one was blasted straight up through the _roof_. She hung in the air for a moment, then plummeted earthward as well, her body jackknifing as it hit the edge of the rooftop, before falling the rest of the way to the ground.

Jadeite stared numbly at the pile of incapacitated youma littering the area in front of the school, before looking up once again. There were two figures standing at one of the holes now. The Dark Lords themselves, looking down at him.

And—although spending untold millennia locked away in a pocket dimension disjoint from normal space and time had not left him in the best position to know the details of current culture—Jadeite very much doubted that the finger gesture the pigtailed warrior was giving him was a polite one.

"They're down..." murmured the cat, fear in her voice. "Then that means our only hope..."

She didn't finish the sentence, but Jadeite knew as well as she did what this meant. He knew, though he tasted bile on his tongue even admitting it to himself.

At this point, their only hope left was in the Sailor Senshi.

* * *

Ranma and Ryouga backed away from the hole in the wall—Ranma moving particularly fast. Even as distant as three stories up, it had been a huge effort of the will to keep up his bravado in the face of the monstrous, four-legged little demon that was standing next to the General.

Ryouga, for his part, made it several steps back into the room and let out a deep, shuddering breath. Then he crumpled against the nearby wall, as the adrenaline-fueled strength that had pushed him through the fight began to drain away. He leaned there, bleary-eyed, trying to collect himself, but it was obvious to Ranma that the wounded lost boy was spent beyond even his incredible levels of endurance.

Worse, they weren't out of trouble yet. The pigtailed fighter knew that taking down a handful of youma like this was, ultimately, just a drop in a very, _very_ large bucket as far as the Dark Kingdom was concerned. The two of them had bought themselves time, but that was all.

_We need to complete the plan, and quick,_ he thought. _This whole thing will blow up in our faces if we don't. If they start to suspect what we're actually trying to pull off, then we're sunk._

But to complete the plan, they needed the bowl. And there was only one person out there who might still have a clue where it had been taken.

At this point, their only hope left was in Beneda.


	21. War Dance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** There's been a few people wondering whether or not the fic is going to end soon, and (while I try my best not to give _specific_ details about what's coming up, due to my extreme spoiler-phobia) an idea of what general pacing to expect is probably a good thing to have.

Basically, we are almost at the final climax... of Part One. Part Two-the remaining half of the overall story-is probably going to be a separate fic, and there's also going to be a much shorter (currently slated at about three chapters) interlude fic which takes place between them.

Oh, and this fic has a page on TV Tropes now! A big thank-you to everyone who put that together; you guys are awesome!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: War Dance

The roar of combat filled the air, as Marceat looked wildly back and forth across the battlefield. The serpentine youma bit her lower lip, her mind running in circles as she tried to think of some way to change the direction of the conflict.

Because the youma army was losing. _Her_ army was losing. Her glorious command, her once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove herself was crashing down in flames around her, torn apart by these damned humans!

To her left she saw one of her attack groups retreating back to the safety of the defensive barriers encircling the main force, harried by arrow fire all the way. To her right she saw a small tornado tear through another platoon, sending bodies flying this way and that. And in the sky above, her flying forces were getting ripped to pieces by the arrows and energy blasts that kept lancing up at them from below.

Marceat let out a scream of frustration and despair, her hands clenching helplessly into fists. Nothing she did was working! Every move she made, every tactic she employed, all of it was instantly countered, as though the enemy knew her next thought before even she did. General Jadeite had left her the task of smashing this opposition and breaking through to reinforce his attack... but she was failing him utterly.

The youma tried to think of a new plan of attack, but nothing was coming to mind. Images of disgrace and death flooded her thoughts, either death at the hand of these foes, or death at the hand of Jadeite for allowing such a debacle to happen. Already she had lost more than half her forces, and unless something changed...

She looked back and forth across the battlefield once more... and then her features twisted into a manic expression. No, she would _not_ go out like this! She might be doomed to failure and death, but right _now_, in this moment, this was _still_ her glorious command, her once-in-a-lifetime chance. She would most likely die at the end of it... but by Metallia, she would not let her army be brought low so easily!

Her head snapped up, her decision made. "To _hell_ with reinforcing Jadeite!" she muttered under her breath, looking out across the battlefield with fresh eyes.

And—freed from that consideration—the beginnings of a new plan began to slowly grow in her...

* * *

Loofah hopped from roof to roof, twisting back and forth as the youma flying above poured their attacks down at her. Air-to-ground fire of countless different types ripped up the rooftops in her wake, but the ancient warrior was always two steps ahead. She continued to thrust her fingers skyward as she dodged, releasing blast after blast of her own, killing youma after youma.

Her breath was coming in shallow wheezes and her entire body felt as though it were on fire, as countless old injuries made their presences known. She had tried to favor her bad leg as best she could, but it was still shot through with pain, and she wasn't sure how much longer it would support her.

_A curse on these aging bones,_ she thought with resignation, as she shot another youma out of the air. _Even five years ago, I would have been able to last longer than this..._

The old woman raised her hand, aiming at her next target... only to see that youma, and the youma on either side of her, shredded by a hail of senbon needles. The remaining youma targeting Loofah veered off under the sudden attack, giving her a moment of breathing room.

She glanced over her shoulder, just in time to see Cologne hop over to her rooftop. "Thank you," the crippled master said, while moving so that the two of them could stand back to back.

Cologne was breathing hard herself, she noticed. Blood was seeping from several cuts on her arms, and one nasty gash along her forehead. "They're starting to adapt," Cologne told her. "Making better use of their powers against us. They've been using illusions against me, and they managed to catch Soap in some kind of gravity trap for a bit."

Loofah tracked the fliers swirling overhead, while digesting the information. "We're still winning, for now," she said, letting loose two more shots, striking down a youma with each. "Their attrition is steeper than ours. If we can keep bleeding them like this, then I think we stand a good chance of—" She paused, frowning. "What's this?"

Without warning, as though in response to some signal, the remains of the swarm of fliers began to peel away, swooping back toward the main youma force. A cheer went up from the scattered groups of Joketsuzoku, as they watched their enemies flee. But Loofah's frown did not diminish.

"They're pulling back," Cologne murmured. Then her gaze swept across the battlefield. "All of them, even the ones on the ground."

"And reorganizing their forces behind their barriers as well," added Loofah, her tone grim. Then she raised her voice. "_Fall back!_ All forces, fall back! Stay clear of the perimeter!"

Without needing to be told, Cologne raced off, speeding counter-clockwise around the youma army to spread the warning as quickly as possible. Loofah went clockwise, snapping out her orders to every Joketsuzoku whose path she crossed.

She could sense the battlefield shifting, could sense her warriors pulling away. But the youma were adjusting too, groups of them forming, taking up positions just behind the edges of their shield-wall. Up ahead, Loofah felt the presence of one last Joketsuzoku group that hadn't been alerted. She increased her speed, hurtling toward the small store they were holed up in, praying for enough time.

Her tiny form crashed through one of the windows, entering the room in a shower of glass. The Joketsuzoku inside whirled in surprise, but Loofah was already barking at them. "Out, all of you, _now!_"

Immediately the warriors moved to obey... just as Loofah felt a surge of killing intent from the mass of youma outside.

Then the front wall of the building exploded inward under the concentrated fire of scores of different projectiles. Energy beams, metal spikes, even a stream of greenish-yellow acid, tearing into the storefront, and into the Joketsuzoku behind it.

The warriors near the window were hit first, their bodies convulsing as they were impaled by the parts of the barrage that made it through the wall. One of them reacted fast enough to grab one of the younger warriors and hurl her farther back into the building, shielding the girl's path with her own body as a half-dozen blades buried themselves into her back and a barbed spear tore through her hip. Then a large ball of energy slammed into the ground nearby, tossing all of them through the air with its detonation.

The shockwave surged toward Loofah, who responded with a downward slash of her cane, creating a wedge-shaped vacuum in the air and using it to slice the explosion in half around her. She darted back and forth, catching the wounded warriors out of the air and guiding them to the ground as gently as she could.

At the same time, she was gathering her ki. More attacks were already on the way, the youma outside adjusting their aim to their targets' new position. Loofah, however, had no intention of letting a single one land.

Her eyes blazed, and she released her battle aura, the wave of ki scattering the oncoming attacks like straw before a gale, but Loofah knew that in her already-drained condition she could not keep it up for long. "Quickly!" she snapped to the two least injured of the warriors. "Move the others!"

They nodded, both of them grabbing hold of their comrades and dragging them back. Another pair of warriors pulled themselves upright, leaning on each other as they hobbled toward the rear of the building. Loofah was last to leave, holding the breach against the youma onslaught until everyone else had retreated. Then she turned and made for the building's rear exit, darting through it and into the alleyway beyond.

She dropped to one knee for a moment, her shoulders shaking, but she quickly forced herself back to her feet. The crippled master then leaped up to the rooftops to survey the situation.

It was as she had expected. Youma attacks of every kind were being fired from behind the cover of their impromptu fortifications, torrents of destruction shooting out from the army in every direction. All Joketsuzoku forces had been moved back from the combat zone by now... but it was not the Joketsuzoku themselves that the youma were targeting. Not anymore.

As Loofah watched, the barrage chewed away at the building they had just vacated, blasting holes in its walls, ripping into its structure. It soon began to tremble, and within a few minutes it collapsed completely, crumbling in on itself.

The youma who had been shooting at it simply switched their aim to the building next to it, subjecting it to the same treatment. _Scorched earth..._ Loofah thought. _They're not going to play our game anymore. They can't compete with our guerilla tactics, so they're going to remove our cover entirely._

In terms of preventing the summoning that they thought the "Dark Lords" were about to enact, it was a grave mistake, slowing their advance to a crawl. If Loofah's objective actually had been to stall the Dark Kingdom force, they would have been doing exactly what she wanted.

Except, of course, there _was_ no summoning, no army of countless invincible warriors ready to break into this dimension and overrun the Dark Kingdom. Loofah was fully aware of how much of the tactical advantage they had enjoyed in this battle had been provided by what Ranma was doing off in Furinkan. But in their desperation, these youma had now inadvertently stumbled onto a far more effective strategy for what was _actually_ going on.

Ambushes were no longer an option, and the cover provided by the magical, youma manipulated defenses was more formidable and flexible than any mundane fortifications that Loofah had ever encountered. The Joketsuzoku would be pushed back, step by step... eventually reaching areas that had not yet been evacuated of civilians.

_They intend to force a direct confrontation with us,_ thought the old master. _Even if they have to raze this entire ward to the ground to do it._

_

* * *

_

Lesp held her breath, waiting for the signal from the unit commander. With the destruction of their old platoon, she and Cortheia had been hastily reassigned to bolster another one that had taken losses. It had been done in a haphazard manner; the organization of the army was not particularly stable at the moment.

Ahead of her, about two-score youma were lined up behind a large stone barrier that one of the shield youma had conjured up from the earth. A narrow strip had been removed from it, and the youma were all firing through the hole non-stop.

Squinting, Lesp could see a little bit through the hole herself, and it looked as though the last remaining human building in the current row was in the process of coming down. That meant it would be time to move soon. "Get ready," she murmured to Cortheia, who was standing next to her. The red-skinned youma responded with a nervous nod, forming her arms into her huge battle axes.

Sure enough, in less than a minute, the call rang out. "_Advance!_ Secure the next line!"

The stone barrier in front of them didn't drop—the ranged youma behind it were too valuable in this kind of fight to risk exposing—but the energy shields on either side of it opened enough for Lesp's group to charge through. She ran out, feet pounding across the shattered, rubble-strewn street, surrounded by her fellow footsoldiers.

They were greeted by a hail of arrows, fired from the cover of the next row of buildings beyond what they had just destroyed, to which their enemies had fallen back. But the buildings were too far away. At such a distance they had more than enough time to track the incoming attacks and respond.

Lesp raised her arm, then swung her yellow, praying-mantis-like claw down in a swipe that cut an incoming arrow in two. Cortheia swung her battle axes in frenzied arcs, hacking aside three more. A few youma were hit, but none fatally.

They pressed forward, securing a position that was within range of the next row of buildings. The arrows were coming more fiercely by then, but the shield youma were right behind them, following in their shadow. There was a flash of bluish-white, and then a wall of ice flowed around them to stand between their group and the incoming attacks. Other types of shielding followed, each according to the particular youma's ability, firming up the perimeter.

The ranged youma rushed up once it was safe, preparing to open fire on the new row of buildings. Lesp, for her part, took a few deep breaths, her hands trembling a little. It was dawning on her that it would be like this all throughout the city, block by block, diving into potential death again and again and again.

She shuddered—but then she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Cortheia leaned over, holding tight in a gesture of reassurance. "Don't worry," the red-skinned youma whispered. "Queen Metallia will watch over us."

Lesp considered asking whether Metallia had been watching over all the other youma they had seen killed today, but decided against it. She knew that Cortheia was just trying to comfort her as best she knew how.

In the end, she simply nodded, and squeezed hard on Corthiea's hand herself. Past them, she could hear the youma opening fire once more, chewing away at this latest row of buildings, while the two of them rested in preparation for the next push.

* * *

Balm ran, careening forward in a lurching stumble and gasping for breath as she raced along behind the buildings that comprised the Joketsuzoku's current line of defense. The din of battle filled her ears, shrieks, crashes, explosions, and the constant sound of the youma barrage.

The young girl blocked it all out, concentrating only on her running. Soon her destination came into view, the convenience store that had been taken as their latest command post. She burst through the door and staggered to a stop in front of Loofah. "Elder, the ninth and twelfth battle groups have all been pushed back from their positions!" she panted. "The ninth has exhausted all their arrows, and the twelfth is running out as well."

Loofah nodded, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "Indeed."

For a moment Balm hesitated, then pressed on. "What are your orders, Elder? How do we respond to this?"

The ancient master let out a deep breath, her shoulders slumping a little. "This... may be as far as we can go, for now."

"You mean... retreat?" asked Balm, her face falling. "Isn't there anything we can do to counter this?"

"At this point we have more wounded than able-bodied warriors, child," Loofah responded, though she didn't look any happier about it than Balm. "There's no way we can assault those fortifications head-on with our current strength. We're running low on ammunition, and even the fighters that are still standing have been fighting non-stop since this began. It may be time to pull back, so that we can fight again when the situation favors us more."

Balm looked out through one of the windows, managing to catch a glimpse of the battle raging outside, understanding the elder's point, but still resistant. "Isn't there _anything_ we can do?" she asked again, more out of desperation than anything else.

Loofah shook her head. "At this point..." she said, her voice full of regret, "...it would take a miracle."

* * *

Humming merrily under his breath, his tiny body dwarfed by the bulging sack he carried slung over his shoulder, the wizened grandmaster of the Anything Goes school bounded along from rooftop to rooftop, reveling in the ill-gotten spoils of his latest "training trip."

Granted, this particular training trip had lasted a bit longer than even he had intended. He'd returned to the Tendo dojo a few days ago to deposit his most recently acquired silky darlings... only to find the place wrecked and none of the inhabitants anywhere to be found.

He had immediately grasped what it meant—his foolish students had apparently become involved with a foe or foes in his absence, powerful enough to attack the dojo head-on and force them to flee. He had realized that they were most likely in serious danger, and knowing that, there had been only one response to make.

Which was, of course, to stay as far away as possible, and come back when it had all blown over. Why should _he_ get involved in something unpleasant like that? Especially when there were such lovely undergarments to be rescued...

The rooftops shot by underneath him, with not even a mob of pursuing women in sight; he had shaken the last one over an hour ago. Now he was free and clear. Just him, his precious treasure, and that strange commotion he could see off in the distance.

Happousai paused in his tracks, blinking. Just what _was_ that, anyway? Dust clouds rising from the city, along with... were those arrows arcing through the air? Something odd was definitely afoot.

His curiosity warred with his inclination to avoid trouble, but in the end he decided it couldn't hurt to take a bit closer look, at least close enough to figure out just what was going on. He first found a safe place on one of the rooftops to stash his lacy treasures, and then began to head toward the source of the disturbance. Finally, he reached a vantage point where he got his first clear view of what was going on.

His heart nearly stopped at what he saw.

They weren't human. That much was obvious to anyone with even a minimal ability to sense ki—or anyone with eyes in their head. Some kind of monsters or demons, of a type Happousai couldn't ever recall encountering before. They were grouped together behind layers of defenses, standing atop the rubble in a wrecked section of the city, while shooting outward to destroy even more of the surrounding buildings. There were hundreds and hundreds of them, an honest-to-goodness army.

And they were all female. Every last one of them.

Happousai's eyes began to shine with bliss, scarcely daring to believe that this was real. Such an army of human women would have been glorious on its own, but this was, in its own way, even better. These monsters still had all the wonderful legs and hips and breasts, but—much like Ranma's cursed form—there would be no need to be as "gentle" with them as he would with a real woman. It was so... _perfect!_

Drawing himself up to his full height, such as it was, the ancient pervert struck a pose. Yes, in fact, these demons were a threat to the peace and safety of this entire ward, and it was his _duty_ as a martial artist to take the action he was about to take. How heroic he was!

Then, a wide leer stretching across his face, he launched himself straight toward the youma army.

The wall of shields was his first obstacle. He aimed his course toward a section of it that would provide some decent footholds—a barrier of nasty, interwoven thorns—and proceeded to scamper up the face of it with lust-driven speed. His hands and feet suffered a few nicks, but the thought of what lay beyond drove him onward. Soon he shot over the top of it, diving out into space, and plummeting toward the army below.

He wasted no time, announcing his presence by falling straight onto the chest of the sexiest monster he could see with a cry of _"Sweeto!"_ His target was a fox-like being, complete with the ears, tail and fangs, and wearing only strategically placed patches of fur. She shrieked in sudden terror and revulsion as the small, black-clad _thing_ dropped out of the sky and buried itself into her breasts, nuzzling away at them.

She staggered back, making futile attempts to yank the tiny old man off. Her panicked cries drew the attention of her nearby comrades, who rushed to help her.

They succeeded... in drawing Happousai's attention to _them_ as well. He leaped from his current victim to a fresh one, climbing up and down her shapely legs, pausing only to rub her rear. She thrashed frantically back and forth, trying to throw off the lecherous master, but to no avail.

Happousai was like a child in a candy store—a drooling, wrinkled child moving at speeds the eye could barely follow. He bounced from youma to youma like a demented pinball, groping, fondling, squeezing, sowing greater and greater chaos everywhere he went as the monsters tried to come to terms with this new assailant.

One, with giant lobster-like pincers for hands, lunged in at the old man, trying to grab hold of him. He spun to face her—then jerked back at the sight of her hideous, crustacean face. _"Yeeech!"_ he shouted, hopping backward. "I don't want to play with _you!_"

The monster kept after him, trying to clamp down on his tiny form again and again. Happousai only danced around her attempts, laughing as he fulfilled his lusts on other, sexier demons. With a chittering snarl, she lunged once more at him with all the speed she could summon... and felt her pincers close on something. She raised her arm for a closer look.

Just in time to see the fuse on the Happodaikarin finish burning down.

The explosion was devastating, sending the tightly-packed youma flying every which way through the air, slamming into other youma as they landed. Happousai, however, was already gone, zipping away to find fresh targets to hold his interest.

Now the youma were _really_ starting to panic, and some of the ones with ranged powers began to fire on the diminutive menace. None of them actually hit him, of course, but their shots did manage to hit plenty of other youma standing behind where he had just been, adding to the chaos.

Undaunted, the ancient pervert continued on. There were so _many_ of them! So many different colors, flavors, types. A practically never-ending supply.

This, Happousai knew, was what heaven must be like.

* * *

The screams were Cologne's first clue that something had changed.

It wasn't an obvious clue; amidst the din of combat they were mostly drowned out at first. But her sharp ears picked them out over the crashes and explosions, noticing the difference between them and the normal battle cries that had been ringing out. There was something distinct about them, a note of shock, fear and revulsion coming from those youma that sounded...

...oddly familiar, somehow.

The shooting from the enemy's east flank began to falter, the sounds of chaos and panic from the other side of their shield-wall growing with each passing second. Then the old master heard a loud explosion from inside their ranks—an explosion that she instantly recognized.

_Merciful ancestors, it's him,_ Cologne thought. _I never thought I would live to see the day when I would be glad to encounter that old fool..._

Even so, there was no time to waste. Rousing her tired limbs to action once more, she rocketed off toward their command post. They needed to respond to this turn of events, and quickly.

In moments she had arrived, barging through the door. Loofah looked over at her, a puzzled frown on her face. "Ke Lun, do you know what's going on?" she asked. "There's a disturbance in the youma army, and it's centered on something with a huge ki aura!"

"It's... help," Cologne said. "Of a sort. Do you remember a hundred and some years ago, a certain pervert who was hanging around our village?"

Loofah's eyes widened. "You mean... _Happousai?_ He's still alive?"

"Yes. Despite the best efforts of many to remedy that." Cologne then flashed a humorless smile. "Which is, for once, fortunate, because he's fixated on those youma out there now."

"And after all those years, we encounter him again here..." breathed Loofah, shaking her head. Then she turned back to Cologne. "You know him best. What should our course of action be?"

"You should lead our main forces back to the Nekohanten," said Cologne without hesitation. "The number of warriors left that can still fight isn't worth the risk of a pretty girl distracting him away from the youma. Sou Pu and I will stay behind to fight—he won't be tempted by either of us."

Loofah opened her mouth to protest, and Cologne knew she wanted to stay as well. But at this point strategy was at an end; it would be a straight-up fight from here on out, and both of them knew that Loofah had pushed her crippled body past what was reasonable already.

Cologne spoke again, quieter this time. "There will be another day, old friend. We will need you for battles beyond this one."

Releasing a hiss of breath through clenched teeth, Loofah nodded. "Very well then. If you truly think that the three of you have a chance..."

"That man out there is more of a monster than the youma he's fighting," was Cologne's wry response. "And he's coming at them fresh. A chance? Yes, I think now we have a chance."

* * *

Soap alighted on the rooftop next to her older sister. The two stood in silence for a moment, listening to the chaos taking place behind the shields of the youma army. At length Soap spoke. "So Happi is still alive, eh?"

"Yes, and putting his perversions to a worthwhile use, for once," replied Cologne. "I expect flying pigs at any moment."

Her sister snorted. "Oh, you always hated him," she said. "He was always nice to _me_. Told me the funniest stories..."

"You were only seven when he came to our village," countered Cologne. "Had you been my age, you'd have a very different memory of him."

They observed the youma army some more, before Soap spoke again. "That many youma left... even for three of our level, it won't be easy. Especially with all the different abilities they might still have to throw at us, if they get organized enough to use them effectively."

Cologne nodded. "Which is why we should strive to keep them as disorganized as possible. We'll wait until they start to adjust themselves to Happousai's presence... then attack ourselves from the opposite direction. Keeping them off balance is the key. We'll need to hit them hard and fast, and at just the right moment."

Soap nodded in agreement. Listening intently, the two masters kept track of where Happi's trail of carnage was heading. They had to adjust their own position a few times, responding to changes in his course... but eventually Cologne detected what she was waiting for. _"Now!"_

The two ancient masters launched themselves at the shield-wall, scaling it and leaping over its edge. They dove into the thick of the youma, their canes slashing, spearing, killing with every blow.

The monsters tried to rally against the savage new attack, throwing themselves at their assailants with frenzied desperation. It was a maelstrom of violence, the two Joketsuzoku hacking away at the seemingly-endless tide of enemies.

A squat purple-and-blue youma charged howling at them, trying to impale them on the horns sprouting from her head. Soap grabbed her by one of those horns and spun, redirecting the charge so that it gored a youma that had been trying to circle around behind her instead. Then she brought her cane up to slice off the bull-youma's head.

More youma were swarming at Soap from behind... but just before they reached her they were plowed over by the body of one of their fellows, hurled through the air at blinding speeds by Cologne. They all went down in a cascading tangle of limbs, leaving them vulnerable to Soap. The elder pounced, her cane shredding them before they could rise.

Soap continued to press forward, spearing a green-skinned youma through the throat. At the same time her hand shot out behind her, catching a half-dozen metal spikes out of the air and hurling them back to kill the monster who had fired them, along with five others.

Without pausing, the elder lunged without toward her next target, a youma with claws reminiscent of a praying mantis. But before Soap could reach her, another youma leaped right into her path. This one was red-skinned, wielding a large battle axe on each arm. She swung both her weapons down at the ancient master, but Soap merely angled her course to one side, allowing the axes to embed into the ground. Then she spun, swinging her cane to hack the youma's leg off at the knee.

The youma toppled forward, impaling herself on Soap's upward cane stab. The elder then used the cane to fling the dying youma into a fur-covered canine monster who was charging at her from the side. It staggered the dog-like youma long enough for Soap to put a ki blast right between her eyes.

From behind her Soap heard a scream of rage, and the youma with the mantis claws threw herself at the old woman in a frenzied attack, hacking with all her might. The elder caught hold of one of her arms as it was about to strike her, yanking the youma forward, off-balance... and right into the hail of bladed discs that one of the ranged monster had just fired.

Soap's impromptu shield jerked and twisted as the blades struck her, soon crumbling into dust. The old master leapt straight through the youma's disintegrating body, cutting down the one who had fired the blades with a single swing of her cane, then spinning to attack the two youma on either side.

There were, of course, more right behind them. Soap dodged and twisted, dancing left and right while striking out with blinding speed. Off in the distance she could hear the screams and occasional explosion of Happousai's own chaotic path through the monsters, only adding to the mayhem.

Even so, the three of them could not be everywhere at once. The nearby youma had been thrown into disarray, and the old pervert was zipping through their ranks at random, but in other places the youma were starting to organize. A few tattered remnants of their aerial forces were already forming into strafing groups, and even on the ground the enemy was starting to come at them with increasingly effective formations.

And no matter how many they killed, there always seemed to be a relentless stream of replacements ready to pick up the attack.

Taking a deep breath, Soap stood with her sister against the unending horde. _I will fight until every last drop of my strength is spent,_ she thought. _And I will make them rue the day they made enemies of the Joketsuzoku._

_

* * *

_

Akane kept a firm grip on Sailor Moon, holding her to the ground in an armlock while Ukyo and Shampoo stood between her and Tuxedo Kamen. The young Senshi beneath her had been struggling frantically at first, but with the arrival of Akane's allies the fight seemed to have gone out of her completely. She was, in fact, crying without restraint, although Akane wasn't sure what had caused such an extreme reaction...

...and then, looking at Ukyo and Shampoo, and recalling who they had been fighting, it clicked. _Oh, the poor kid..._ she thought, and spoke hurriedly to Ukyo. "Um... my fellow monster! Does this mean that you've _captured_ the other Sailor Senshi for their parts in our evil plan?"

Ukyo glanced over her shoulder, a little puzzled. Then she looked down at Sailor Moon's tear-stained face, and her eyes widened slightly in understanding. "Oh! Yes, yes we have. They're both safely our prisoners—no need to worry about them showing up."

Beneath her, Akane felt Sailor Moon stiffen at the words, and her tears slowed to a stop. _Good,_ thought the Tendo girl. _No need to make this any worse than it has to be._

Ahead, Shampoo addressed Tuxedo Kamen. "Tuxedo-man not try anything funny," she warned. "Just be staying there. Monster is killing sailor-girl if not."

A scowl darkened Tuxedo Kamen's face, but there was nothing he could do, especially in his weakened state. Akane, for her part, was puzzled why Shampoo had even bothered with a threat at all... until she realized what the Joketsuzoku girl was doing.

In the condition he was in, it would certainly be trivial for Ukyo and Shampoo to beat the masked warrior... but beating up the opponents at Furinkan wouldn't accomplish Ranma's plan. Shampoo was using the "hostage situation" as a way to stall, to keep things going while they tried to work something out.

_If we can just hang on, then Ranma will think up some crazy idea to make this all work out..._ Akane thought. _He always does. In fact, I bet he's come up with something already..._

_

* * *

_

_We are in such deep trouble,_ thought Ranma, as he went over the situation for what seemed like the hundredth time. _I have no idea how we're going to get out of this one..._

He and Ryouga had hurried downstairs after defeating the DD Girls—or more accurately, Ranma had hurried, practically carrying his injured and spent rival. They had peeked in on the girls first, enough to see that they had matters well in hand, before retreating to figure out their next move.

Ryouga wasn't much help; he was slumped awkwardly against one of the walls, breath shuddering in and out, and seemed to be mostly focusing on staying conscious. Ranma, for his part, was pacing up and down the hallway they were standing in, trying to think.

They needed to find Beneda, and they needed to get the bowl back. But where to even start looking? They could be anywhere in the city, gone in any direction. How could they possibly track her?

Racking his brain, Ranma considered every possibility he could think of, no matter how remote. _Didn't Beneda say something once about the Senshi having a way to detect youma? If we could use that..._

Then he turned and started pacing back the other way. _But we don't know how they do it, and I don't know how we'd get them to tell us. Heck, it might not even work for anybody but them._

He cursed under his breath. _What am I supposed to do?_ he wondered. _How am I supposed to find someone who could be anywh—_

But his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of running footsteps, growing ever nearer. He whirled toward them, even as Ryouga lurched back to his feet. Both boys readied themselves, preparing to defend against whatever it was that was coming...

...only to see Beneda stumble around the corner, gasping for breath.

_"Beneda!"_ Both of them hurried over, Ranma catching her by the shoulder to steady her. She had obviously run herself ragged; she was sucking in air with deep wheezes, and was practically doubled over. Ryouga kept on talking. "You're all right! What happened with Kodachi? Did she hurt you?"

The youma shook her head. "Fought... her..." she managed to pant. "Then... Darkmistress... But Mousse... showed up... Saved us... Ran back here... fast as I could... Jadeite... watching the front... Had to sneak... around the back..." She took a few more shuddering breaths, then raised her arm to offer Ranma what she held in her hand.

The bowl.

Ranma let out a whoop, snatching hold of the magical item as though he were afraid it would vanish again if he delayed. "You got it back!" he exulted, turning it over and over in his hands. "This is great! We gotta get this to the gym right away!"

He looked back and forth between the lost boy and the youma, a wild grin growing across his face. "See? I told you everything was going to work out! We're _back in the game!_"

* * *

Luna stared fretfully at Furinkan High, trying to sense the artifact that was key to this whole situation, and trying not to let worry for the Senshi consume her. Previously she had also been watching Jadeite for signs of betrayal... but with the obliteration of his forces, the wounded General was no longer much of a threat.

Not compared to what they were facing inside that building.

But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her fears kept plaguing her. The girls were in there _alone_ now, up against an enemy that had already crushed the five elite youma that had gone in there with them. How would they manage now? For all she knew, they might already be...

The cat shook her head. No! No, she wouldn't believe that. There had to be a way to turn this around. There had to be!

A soft intake of breath from Jadeite caused her to look up at him. The Dark General frowned in concentration, then looked down at her as well. "Can you sense it?" he asked. "From inside the building. _Magic!_"

Sudden hope filling her, Luna focused with newfound determination, trying to pick out what Jadeite was referring to. At first she met with no success... but then she detected it as well.

It was faint. Very faint. Even with Jadeite alerting her she only barely managed to sense its presence. "Could this really be it?" she asked, scarcely daring to believe. "It's far less powerful than I would have expected from a dimensional key..."

"Obviously it's due to their shielding," replied Jadeite. "We couldn't even detect it at _all_ until just now. They must be funneling so much magical power into it that their concealment spells can no longer hide it completely!"

Luna's breath caught in her throat. If they were pouring that kind of power into the artifact, then it had to mean... "They're about to do it," she whispered. "They're about to bring through their army."

Immediately, her paw stabbed down to activate the communicator on the ground in front of her. She had to tell the Senshi! If Sailor Mercury's theory about the artifact—and the Dark Lords' dependence on it—was correct, then they still had a chance to turn this around!

The communicator beeped. And beeped. And beeped. And beeped.

Each time the tone sounded with no response, Luna's heart constricted a little more. But she refused to give up hope. _They're... probably fighting..._ she thought. _It would certainly make sense if none of them could respond right away._

The communicator continued to beep.

Then, with a click, a connection was made, causing Luna's spirit to soar as an image came into focus in the viewing screen...

...an image of Shampoo.

The moon cat's heart nearly stopped beating. Shampoo, for her part, seemed to be fiddling with the communicator on her end, until she realized that Luna's image had appeared. "Oh, is only cat," she said. "Cat stop making annoying beep-beep noise with machine. Sailor-girl not be taking your call."

And then, with a stab of her finger, Shampoo killed the connection, leaving Luna with only an empty screen.

Luna stared numbly at the inert communicator, feeling her spirit crumple in on itself. The girls... They had been... It wasn't possible, and yet...

"Well, that's about all I expected from them," muttered Jadeite. "And with those three dead, it means there's only the two of us left. This is going to be... interesting."

The moon cat barely even heard him. _It's all my fault..._ she realized. _I was the one who made them into warriors... and for what? To just throw them under the wheels of some insane plan of conquest, without even slowing it down? I... I never thought it would end like this..._

Jadeite looked down at her for a few moments, then with a scowl he reached down and yanked the cat up by the scruff of the neck, holding her so that they were looking at each other face to face. "Pull yourself together!" he snapped. "Don't you have any pride as a servant of good? Are you really just going to let those Dark Lords win like this? Surely this isn't all your side is capable of!"

Luna blinked, Jadeite's harsh words breaking through to her. _He's... right,_ she thought. _For the sake of the world... for the sake of making sure the girls didn't die in vain... we have to stop them._

She closed her eyes, then nodded once. Satisfied, Jadeite dropped her immediately. She realized that with as many broken bones as he had, it must have hurt him intensely even just to hold her up like that.

_We're neither of us very intimidating at the moment,_ she thought. _But even if we can't do anything in the end... I'll fight those bastards to my dying breath._

Then she turned, facing toward Furinkan High, toward the sense they had of the magical artifact. "All right," she said, her voice still thick with emotion. "Let's go."

* * *

Mousse gathered his strength, leaping from the rooftop he was standing on to the next. His limbs felt like lead weights, and his wounds ached with every movement. _I... probably shouldn't have had Beneda drain that much ki..._ he admitted, if only internally. _I seem to have... overestimated myself._

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees, propping himself up. Then he was running again, building after building going by under his feet, albeit at a much slower pace than he would have normally taken.

As he approached his destination, a knot of worry began to form in his stomach. He could hear no sounds of combat, could see no arrows or youma attacks shooting back and forth. The hidden weapons master frowned. Could it really be over already?

And if so... who had won?

He increased his speed, ignoring the protests of his body. At his new rate he arrived at the site of the battle in minutes... and his eyes widened at what he saw.

The entire area had been wrecked, buildings smashed into rubble across a space the size of a stadium, leaving the ground strewn everywhere with their remains. He could not see the Joketsuzoku army anywhere... but he could see Cologne and Soap.

They were sitting together, toward the center of the devastation, slumped against a tiny remnant of still-standing wall. Both their robes were stained heavily with blood, although their major wounds had been given a hasty field dressing. Soap, in particular, had a large bandage covering her left eye, and most of the left side of her face.

Of the vast youma army, all that remained were about ten youma, huddled together in a shell-shocked group as Happousai scurried monkey-like among them, groping and fondling.

Mousse eventually realized that his jaw was hanging wide open. He shut it, then jumped down into the vast open space that the battle had created and made his way over to where the two elders sat.

Cologne looked up as he drew near. "Ah, there you are," she said. "Did you take care of the errand Loofah sent you on?"

The hidden weapons master nodded. "It was the Darkmistress that had broken away," he told her. "We don't need to worry about her anymore."

"Excellent." A tired, yet satisfied smile crossed Cologne's face. "The loss of a Dark Kingdom army, and the loss of one of their leaders as well. This has been a good day."

Mousse, for his part, was still staring down at the two ancient masters. Never once, in all his life, had he ever seen either of them look so utterly exhausted. Not that it was surprising, considering what they had accomplished. He glanced over at what remained of the youma army, then back down at the two tiny, fragile-looking old crones... and he had to suppress a shudder.

"You did it..." the hidden weapons master breathed. "I can't believe you actually beat them all..." Then he frowned. "But our army. Where are the rest...?"

"Had them slip away," Cologne replied, gesturing toward where Happousai was indulging himself. "Didn't want _him_ seeing them. We'll be taking those youma with us as well, once Happi gets bored. From what I saw, they seemed to be the ones in command—officers of some kind. They should be able to tell us a fair bit if we interrogate them."

Mousse turned to survey the ruined surroundings once more, the reality of their victory still sinking in. Relief started to seep through him, his hands shaking a little as he began to really process the magnitude of what he had just survived. They had gone up against impossible odds, fought ancient enemies from before the dawn of recorded history, and yet here they were. Alive, on the other side of it. Despite himself, a giddy little half-chuckle escaped his lips.

And then he heard another sound, one that he had not expected to hear, one that seemed incongruous to the situation. It came from behind him, and above.

The sound of someone applauding.

Slowly Mousse turned around, raising his gaze to where the sound was coming from, looking into the air at the three figures hovering there. To the left, a slender man with strawberry-blond hair tied back in a ponytail. To the right, a brown-haired man who watched them with an unreadable expression. And in the center, a broad-shouldered man with long white hair and a dark cloak. It was he who was clapping, as he looked down at them.

"Impressively done," the white-haired man said. "To accomplish this much, even against a weak fool like Jadeite, is worthy of respect."

The elders had turned around as well, tightening their grips on their canes. "And that would make you Kunzite, I presume?" asked Cologne.

"You _are_ well-informed about us..." was Kunzite's response. "Likewise, I assume you know of my fellow generals, Zoisite and Nephrite." He gestured to each in turn.

"I see," Cologne replied. "So your armies having failed, you come out to face us in person then?"

At that, Zoisite turned to the white-haired General. "She thinks our armies have failed, Kunzite!" he said, his tone eager. "Can we bring them through? Let them see what they're _really_ up against?"

Kunzite frowned. "Why? It's hardly necessary at this point. If this is all that remains on the battlefield the overkill would be absurd—even as a precaution."

"But it was _so_ much trouble getting them all assembled," pleaded the blond general. "Don't you want to at least use them? After what Jadeite's already done here, it's not as though it would be any worse exposure for us, and chances like that don't come along every day!"

Kunzite turned to Nephrite, who shrugged disinterestedly, then spoke. "It would keep them from trying to escape, at least."

"True enough," the white-haired general allowed. "Very well, then. If you truly think—"

In that moment, while Kunzite was looking at Nephrite, Cologne's hand shot into her sleeve with cobra-like speed, and she hurled a half-dozen senbon needles at Kunzite's head. The weapons hissed through the air on their deadly errand... only to stop cold an inch from Kunzite's face, hanging in midair, caught in his telekinetic grasp.

"—that it is worthwhile, then I see no reason not to," the Dark General finished. Then he turned, and looked directly at the motionless weapons. Each of them simultaneously snapped in half, the pieces tumbling down to join the rest of the debris below. He then proceeded to raise his hand, and made a small gesture.

Starting behind him, then spreading out all along the ridge of still-standing buildings that surrounded the devastated area, dark portals began to open in midair, and youma began to pour through them. It was like watching water bursting forth from a dam, as they leaped through the swirling holes in reality, rushing out to blanket the rooftops, then spilling down onto the ground beneath.

Zoisite and Nephrite were opening portals as well, increasing the flow, but even combined their contribution was far eclipsed by Kunzite's. Regardless, within moments the area had been entirely surrounded, thousands of youma blanketing the perimeter in every direction.

Mousse looked back and forth, his eyes wide. "We... we have to fight all of _them?_" he whispered to Cologne, stunned by the sudden and complete reversal.

Evidently, Kunzite's senses were much sharper than Mousse had given him credit for, since the Dark General answered him. "No, boy," he said. "You're not that lucky."

He levitated downward, followed by the other two. As he descended, raw _power_ began to coalesce around him, power that felt vast as the ocean and cold as the grave. Mousse stumbled, his knees almost buckling, his lungs having difficulty taking in air, as he came under the crushing presence of the greatest of Beryl's generals.

Kunzite's feet touched ground in a swirl of dust, and he spoke again. "These youma are not your opponents," he told them. "They are the _audience._"

* * *

Cologne raised her cane, holding it at the ready between herself and Kunzite. Around her, the air was filled with the shouts, catcalls and jeers that the youma army directed at her, but she blocked it all out, letting it wash over her as she focused on the white-haired general.

_I must be the one to fight him,_ she thought. _Even for my sister, I fear this will be a foe beyond her abilities._

Not that Cologne had particularly high hopes for herself either, but she was still the best choice. _If only I were at full strength! Then, perhaps... But no, I must focus on what I have to work with, and see what I can accomplish against him._

Kunzite met her eyes, silently accepting her challenge. He turned to face her squarely, then crossed his arms, waiting.

Cologne did not keep him waiting long. She burst into motion, racing toward the Dark General, the ground shooting by under her tiny feet. As she neared the imposing figure she put on an extra burst of speed, nearly vanishing from sight as she leapt into the air and swung her cane at the side of his neck.

The general did not move an inch. The instant before the blow struck home he simply vanished in a flicker of energy. Cologne's strike slashed harmlessly through the empty air, even as she felt Kunzite's presence reappear directly behind her, launching a salvo of magical blasts at her airborne form.

Cologne's arm shot down, jamming the tip of her cane into the pavement and using it to twist herself away on a different course, her tiny body corkscrewing between the flying spheres of dark energy. She hit ground, her feet skidding across it, but then had to leap away as the General continued his barrage. Explosions traced Cologne's path as she darted backward, threading left and right between the bolts of destructive magic.

Nor was Kunzite the only threat. Off to the side, Zoisite was gathering fire in his palms, preparing to support the other general's attack. But then the blond general ducked, a split-second before Mousse shot by overhead, leg scything around in a jump kick that had been aimed as Zoisite's skull.

"Look to your own battles first!" the hidden weapons master called out as he landed, drawing a pair of tonfa from his sleeves. "I am your opponent!"

Behind Cologne, she could hear yet more thundering explosions, and knew that her sister had entered into combat with Nephrite. She did not turn to look, however, keeping her concentration on her own foe as she swerved around his attacks.

Slipping underneath one of the blasts, she thrust out two fingers at Kunzite. A focused burst of her own ki shot out, threading between the general's magical bombardment to shoot straight at his chest. But he only teleported again, appearing directly above her this time and hurling down a sphere of power that blasted a gaping crater in the earth and showered Cologne with debris despite her evasion.

Panting for breath, the ancient master craned her neck to look up at the general. "Is this all?" she asked, trying to stall, to buy as much time to rest as she could. She had been running on fumes before this fight even started, and each exertion was only adding to the toll. "Not bad, I suppose, but from someone of your reputation I was expecting something a bit more..."

Kunzite only raised an eyebrow. "You wish to see more than this?" he asked. "Prove yourself worthy of it first." Then, his power swelling once more, he cast down a rain of destruction from above. Cologne backpedaled, trying to come up with a way to turn the tables...

...and then, from off to the side, a small, round bomb arced its way toward Kunzite's head, fuse burning.

The general jerked back, throwing up an arm reflexively. The bomb exploded, its blast crashing into a dark barrier that had formed just in time. Behind it, Kunzite's cloak billowed from what little of the shockwave managed to flow around the edges of his shield.

Both combatants turned, to see the diminutive figure of Happousai standing where the bomb had come from. "Now you listen here, youngster!" the ancient pervert called up to Kunzite. "Raising a racket and throwing around such a disgusting aura as that... you're interfering with a poor old man's few remaining pleasures in life! You'd better take this fight of yours someplace else, and let me enjoy these pretty ladies in peace!"

Kunzite only smiled in reply. "Ah, yes. I was almost afraid you weren't going to join the battle."

"I'm not joining anything!" shot back the old man. "I know what's really important in life. Your little squabble isn't any concern of mine."

"No?" asked Kunzite, raising an eyebrow. "Then allow me to _make_ it one." With that he raised his hand, and launched a brief series of magical blasts at the ancient pervert, causing his target to yelp and jump out of the way.

_What is he doing?_ wondered Cologne, a frown crossing her face. _That didn't even look like a serious attempt to kill Happi. He wasn't trying to destroy him... he was trying to force him to fight! Why? There's something strange going on here._

But whatever his intentions in provoking the old master, he had certainly succeeded. "All right," Happousai growled, a dangerous glint now in his eyes. "I see that someone needs a lesson in respect for their elders."

Kunzite laughed. "Then by all means," he said. "Show me what you are capable of." As he spoke, he rose high into the air, his power manifesting in waves of darkness, flowing out of him to stain the very air around them black. A whirling spherical shield of dark energy appeared around his body, wrapping him completely, while his palms flashed with lurid purple lightning.

"Indeed," he continued. "Against two of you... I may have to take this fight a bit more seriously."

* * *

Soap darted in on the attack, her cane blurring in strike after strike. Nephrite flew backward, trying to keep his distance, but eventually he was forced to soar skyward to avoid the old master's charge.

She did not follow herself, instead twirling her weapon to direct a focused vortex of air up at her opponent. The Dark General responded with a ghostly blue magic blast, the two attacks colliding head-on. Nephrite's ripped straight through her own, continuing down to slam into the earth where she had just been standing.

_Can't match him in power head-on,_ the old woman thought, looking up at him. _And his flight is bothersome too... How best to attack him up there?_

The general followed his attack with a barrage of smaller, faster blasts, steadily increasing in speed and number until they showered down like raindrops in a storm. Soap weaved between them, breathing a prayer of thanks for her small size.

Eventually, Nephrite paused in his assault. "Your martial skills are exceptional," he acknowledged, looking down at the smoking, shattered concrete beneath him. "Attacking you like this is useless, and it would be dangerous to fight someone like you at close range. At least... it would be using normal methods."

As he spoke, his body seemed to split, over a dozen semi-transparent replicas of himself shooting out to either side. Even the original body became transparent as well, forming a long row of identical figures.

They spoke in unison, Nephrite's voice coming from each. "O Regulus, star of Leo, shining in the southern night sky, grant me your power!"

At once the images vanished, then reappeared as smaller versions of themselves, arranged in a shape that Soap recognized as the constellation Leo. They shrunk to bright points of light, as glowing yellow lines appeared connecting them. Then the shape of a lion formed around that framework, its color a pale blue. It gradually became more and more solid, until it dropped from the air and landed in front of Soap with a roar.

The old woman wasted no time, bursting into a run straight toward the creature. It ran to meet her as well, the two rocketing toward each other with deadly intent.

As they neared each other the lion pounced, but Soap slipped easily between its paws and used her accumulated momentum to drive her cane squarely between the lion's eyes. The _crack_ of the resulting impact echoed across the battlefield, and the beast flew backward through the air with a howl of pain.

Soap followed, leaping up into the air after it. She grabbed it by the mane, swung it around, then fired a ki blast into its stomach that smashed it back down to earth. She landed on top of it, using her fall to drive her cane as deep as she could into the thing's neck, and then rip it out sideways.

She was rewarded by the ugly gash her attack carved across its throat. But any sense of satisfaction was soon erased as the "wound" sealed back up, vanishing as though it had never been. _It seems this construct cannot be killed by normal means,_ Soap thought, as she jumped back off the beast. _Instead, I should focus on the caster. Where is he?_

"O Kaus Australis, star of Sagittarius, shining in the southern night sky, grant me your power!"

The old master looked over her shoulder, in time to see a large centaur armed with an even larger bow take shape behind her. Its body was made out of the same spectral blue essence, and no sooner had it formed than it brought its weapon around to target her.

Its bow released a shaft of blinding blue light, one that she avoided by mere inches. It shot past her, drilling deep into the ground, even as the centaur readied another such arrow to his weapon. Meanwhile, the lion had regained its footing, and was stalking toward her as well.

"O Alioth, star of Ursa Maj—"

Soap whirled, her hand snapping out, launching a series of short, rapid ki blasts in quick succession. They sailed harmlessly though the transparent images of Nephrite, doing nothing to disrupt his spell, though they did at least drown out the rest of the incantation. Nevertheless, a few moments later the blue form of a giant bear was lumbering toward the embattled elder.

"Not bad..." Soap said, holding her cane in a defensive position as the three constructs circled her. "But how long can you keep this up? It must require an exertion of your own strength to keep them here..."

A laugh from behind caused Soap to turn, and she saw that Nephrite was floating there. "An exertion?" he asked, in an amused tone of voice. "These toys? Hardly. But you have been a worthy opponent, old woman... and so I will indeed show you what it means for a Dark General to _exert_ himself."

He drew himself up, splitting into his replicas once more. "O Eltanin..." they intoned, power swirling around each of them. "Star of Draco... shining in the northern night sky... _grant me your power!_"

Despite herself, Soap's jaw dropped a little at what formed then. It descended from above as it took shape, its long, coiling body utterly dwarfing all the constructs that had come before it. It arced through the air with serpentine grace, propelled by a single flap of its bat-like wings. When it finally landed, the earth shook under the impact.

Then the dragon turned, focused its reptilian eyes on Soap, and drew in a deep breath.

Soap ran. She sprinted for all she was worth, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and what was coming. The next instant there was a terrible roar, and a wall of searing flame burst from the dragon's mouth, incinerating everything behind her as she tried desperately to outrun it.

Her tiny body shot like a bullet along the ground, the dragonfire raging at her heels. She could feel its hellish heat, catching up to her even as it spread out to wash over everything in the vicinity. Putting everything into one final leap, she flung herself forward with all her strength, then jammed her cane into the ground and used that to propel herself even faster.

She hit ground hard, skidding for a long way until she came to a stop. Looking up, she saw that she had escaped the outer edge of the dragonfire by a matter of feet. Past that, everything was a blackened cone of destruction, stretching all the way back to the monster, who was even now glaring balefully at her, while the other three constructs took up positions beside it, and Nephrite hovered overhead.

Climbing slowly back to her feet, the old master took a long look at the odds facing her. _Well,_ she thought philosophically. _This could certainly be going better._

_

* * *

_

The hidden weapons master gritted his teeth, forcing his weary arms to slash with a shortsword at Zoisite's head. The blond general stepped back at the last moment, casually allowing the blade to hiss past. Mousse spun, pulling out an identical shortsword with his other hand and chasing after his foe in a whirling pattern of cuts. But Zoisite moved around them all with the same nonchalant disdain.

Mousse bit back a vicious curse. Around him, he could hear the sounds of violence as the other generals fought Cologne, Happousai and Soap. He had no idea how the old masters were keeping this up. The two women had seemed even _more_ exhausted than him when he had first returned, but they were still fighting with feverish intensity, apparently drawing on some hidden reserve known only to such ridiculously powerful old crones.

He, on the other hand...

Air exploded from the nearsighted boy's lungs as Zoisite ducked under one of his attacks and drove his foot into Mousse's stomach. A cheer thundered from the watching youma at the telling hit, as Mousse stumbled back.

He had seen the attack coming, but his reactions had been too sluggish to do anything besides brace himself. The hidden weapons master tried to cover his retreat with a series of wild swings, but the Dark General slipped around them all, then spun into a backhand that smashed across Mousse's face, sending him reeling off to one side.

Zoisite followed at a leisurely pace, watching the young fighter with interest, occasionally striking him again when it looked like he might be about to get his balance back. "Come now!" the general exhorted him, as he drove a fist into the side of Mousse's head. "Where's all the fighting spirit you had, back when you were fighting Jadeite's youma in the air? I wanted to see some of that! Surely you haven't used it _all_ up?"

A snarl escaped Mousse's lips, and a surge of anger gave him the strength to counterattack with something closer to his normal speed. He jammed his hands deep into his sleeves, then flung them out in a shower of knives that flew toward his target.

Overconfident as he was, Zoisite was caught off-guard by the sudden ferocity of the offensive. He let out a yelp, ducking and twisting. Even so, one of the blades put a gash in the side of the general's arm, while another one nicked the side of his face.

Zoisite let loose a howl of rage, and lunged at Mousse with incredible speed. The general's hand shot out, grabbing the hidden weapons master by the front of his robes and hoisting him into the air. Pink energy glowed in his palm, and with a cry of _"Zoi!"_ he released it into Mousse's chest at point-blank range.

The young fighter was blasted backward, flipping end over end before crashing back down to earth. Arms trembling, he eventually fought his way back up to his hands and knees, only to see Zoisite standing over him.

"You. Cut. My. Face." The Dark General extended his arm, and with a flash of light, a green, crystalline blade appeared in his hand. "Now I am going to cut you. Slowly."

* * *

Ranma raced into the gymnasium, only pausing for a moment to once again admire the trappings that had changed it from a wholesome place of exercise to a villainous lair. The heavy curtains they had added had been drawn across all the windows, casting the place into gloom. The now-black walls were appropriately foreboding, and the glow-in-the-dark paint they had used for the random sigils was shining eerily.

He hurried over to the far left side of the gym, jogging between the piles of mystical-looking paraphernalia that they had scrounged together for extra atmosphere. With a sigh of relief, he reached the altar where it stood nestled off against the wall, and placed the bowl atop it.

Then, grinning, he turned to Ryouga and Beneda, who had just entered the gym themselves. The youma was all but carrying the injured lost boy; he had one arm around her shoulder, and she was supporting most of his weight. Raising his head, Ryouga spoke. "So it's all ready now?"

"Almost." Darting over to the stage, Ranma opened the trap door and jumped down through it into the haphazard control room they had set up there. He noticed, in passing, that Gosunkugi was lying unconscious on the floor, but he only shrugged and continued with what he was doing. He could figure out what was up with that later, when he had time.

It took him only a few seconds to find the small, airtight container that he had stashed there earlier that day. Leaping back up through the trap door, he jogged back over to the altar.

"Since we're using a bowl, I figured we ought to have something to put _in_ it, you know? For effect." The pigtailed fighter opened the container as he spoke, and immediately all three of them jerked back a little at the foul odor coming from inside it.

Ranma proceeded to pour out a generous helping of a vile-looking sludge into the bowl. "What _is_ that?" asked Beneda, looking slightly nauseous.

"Well, we're supposed to be evil overlords, right?" asked Ranma. "So I just got some of the most horrible, repulsive stuff I could think of, to keep with our image."

At that, Ryouga's head snapped up angrily. "Ranma!" he demanded. "How _dare_ you talk about Akane's miso soup that way!"

Ranma snorted. "Listen, pork chop, you didn't have to deal with the tomboy trying to make you eat this stuff, so..." His voice trailed off, as he stared at the bowl. The "soup" inside it had begun to _bubble_. "...the hell?"

The three of them watched, transfixed, as the sludge in the bowl was slowly brought to an even simmer. They waited, holding their breath for something else to happen, but it simply remained there, bubbling away. "What's going on here?" Ryouga asked at last.

"Well..." Beneda said, frowning. "I know what we're tricking the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi into _thinking_ the bowl's magic is, but... did we ever find out what it's _actually_ supposed to do?"

Slowly, tentatively, Ranma walked back over to the bowl and stuck his finger into the bubbling liquid. Then he turned to face the other two. "It heats up food," he said, a disbelieving expression on his face. "It's a _glorified magical microwave!_ How the hell is _this_ supposed to be an 'important Joketsuzoku treasure'?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "Maybe they really like their food hot?" Ryouga eventually offered.

Ranma's reaction was to give a suspicious glare over in the direction of the part of the building that Shampoo was in. Then he sighed and shook his head. "All right. You two start lighting the incense sticks, fire up the fog machine, and then get down below the stage to run things from there. I'll go grab one of the Senshi."

Ryouga and Beneda nodded, and Ranma turned to go. But before he left, he spared one last look at the altar, the bowl resting safely atop it. He looked at all the arcane symbols they had covered the altar with... as well as the triangle of three ordinary kanji that he himself had added to its front earlier that day.

He didn't expect the Senshi to realize the significance of those three kanji, of course. They were simply written as his own private joke, his personal summation of what they were about to do.

Cracking a grin, Ranma turned and headed off toward where the girls had Tuxedo Kamen and Sailor Moon pinned down. _Okay,_ he thought. _Time to get this show on the road._

_

* * *

_

It was the voices that woke Gosunkugi.

He had been drifting closer and closer to reality, but it was the sound of shouting above him that finally pushed him back into the waking world. Something about a "glorified magical microwave."

For a few seconds he was completely disoriented, looking back and forth as his thoughts and memories tried to pull themselves out of the jumbled mess they were in. He remembered Saotome's youma, and how she had suspected his duplicity. She had pushed him against the wall, threatened him, and then... blackness.

She must have knocked him out, of course, upon realizing that her interrogation would never crack his resolve. Yes, that was the only possible explanation for his sudden loss of consciousness.

He was so wrapped up in his remembrance of the event that he almost missed hearing what Ranma was saying above him: "All right. You two start lighting the incense sticks, fire up the fog machine, and then get down below the stage to run things from there. I'll go grab one of the Senshi."

Gosunkugi's blood froze, as the implications of what he had just heard settled in his mind. Had he really been out that long? Saotome had already started his scheme!

He was _right in the middle_ of Saotome's scheme!

The pale boy shot to his feet, looking wildly around. He had to get out of here! If the Senshi were here, then the Dark Kingdom couldn't be far behind. And even worse, if Gosunkugi's _own_ plan went off while he was still here...

He threw himself headlong toward the nearby door, flinging it open and racing up the stairs to the floor above, emerging backstage. From there he ran toward the building's closest exit at a dead sprint, while at the same time trying to be as silent and stealthy as possible. The taste of fear filled his mouth, as he realized the full danger of his situation. This was no game. If the Dark Kingdom was here, if they did find him...

...they would kill him.

The thought pushed him to run even faster, and he shot toward the exit with a speed he hadn't known he was capable of.

* * *

Luna scampered across the Furinkan schoolyard, keeping an eye out for any sign of their enemies. But she reached her destination unhindered, a small side door in the building wall.

Moments later, Jadeite levitated down beside her, fighting back a wince at even that slight impact. He then looked down at her. "Are you ready?" he asked.

The moon cat thought through their plan once more. They would attempt stealth first, but if they were discovered Jadeite would act as a distraction, using his teleportation to stay ahead of the Dark Lords for as long as he could. Meanwhile, the smaller Luna would keep trying to find—and destroy—the bowl that was the key to all of this.

It was a desperate, last-ditch plan, with little real chance of success, but it was all they had. They were banking everything on the cooperation of two former enemies, one whose condition was so fragile that the slightest bump was excruciating, and the other who had practically no offensive abilities to begin with. For a second the two of them locked eyes, each understanding the odds against them, each understanding the cost should they fail.

_But we won't fail,_ Luna told herself. _We can't fail, not with so much at stake. We have to pull this off. Together._

The cat gave a short nod, which Jadeite returned. Then, taking a deep breath, the Dark General turned and reached out his hand to open the door.

Just before he touched it, the door burst wide open, its edge slamming directly into Jadeite's face and torso. The general stumbled back with an agonized gurgle, even as Gosunkugi Hikaru came hurtling through the doorway at a blind run. The boy plowed right into the Dark Kingdom leader, the two of them toppling over, arms flailing, to crash into the ground, Gosunkugi on top.

The panic-stricken boy attempted to rise, his hands scrambling all across Jadeite's body in an attempt to find purchase. He managed to push himself partway up to his feet... but then his foot slipped and he fell back down, his forearm gouging into Jadeite's ribcage.

Finally, Gosunkugi managed to collect himself enough to get his feet under him. He fled in terror, trampling right over the prone general's body in the process and disappearing off into the distance.

For a few seconds Luna simply stood there, open-mouthed, until finally she snapped herself out of her stunned stupor. "Jadeite!" she exclaimed. "Are you... all right?"

Jadeite made no reply, only writhed about on the ground. Luna glanced around helplessly, then at last turned back to the general, deciding to give it her best shot. "Pull yourself together!" she exhorted. "Don't you have any pride as a servant of evil? Are you really just going to let those Dark Lords win like this? Surely this isn't all your side is capable of!"

The only response Jadeite gave was a small whimper, as he pulled himself into a twitching, fetal ball.

Luna hesitated, but by now it was clear that Jadeite had been taken out of the fight. She was on her own. If the odds against her had seemed daunting before, now they seemed utterly crushing.

But even so, she moved forward. Stepping through the doorway, she walked alone into her enemies' lair, ready to make one last stand against their tyrannical ambitions.

* * *

Tuxedo Kamen watched the three opponents he was up against, searching for any sign of a weakness, trying not to let the throbbing ache in his rib cage distract him. The brainwashed girl, Shampoo, was out in front, while the spatula-wielding youma was covering the youma with the mask, who was in turn holding Sailor Moon down. He could see no way to make a move without them killing the blonde girl long before he could free her.

Fortunately, they seemed content with a stalemate for now, allowing him to gather his strength for when he made his move. Not that he knew what that move was going to be, given his current condition. He doubted he had any chance of taking on Shampoo now, much less Shampoo backed up by her spatula monster.

He had to think of something. But at this point, the only thing he could think of was to pray for a miracle.

What happened, however, was the exact opposite. Without warning, the Dark Lord Ranma himself strode into the room. Every combatant there turned to face him, as he raised his fist and began to speak. "_Rejoice,_ my minions!" he proclaimed. "Everything is ready! We are about to begin the ceremony!"

Shampoo and her two monsters exchanged quick glances. Sudden smiles lit up the faces of the ones without masks, and Tuxedo Kamen expected that a similar smile was on the face of the masked one as well.

"Now, just like we planned!" continued Ranma. "Soon this entire planet will be ours, conquered by our unstoppable army! Victory is at hand!" Then, laughing madly, he turned with a swirl of his cape and left the way he had come.

It was his last, best chance, and Tuxedo Kamen took it. He leapt on the attack while his opponents were all distracted by the news, hurling roses as he closed. Shampoo leapt out of the way, while the spatula-youma used her weapon to deflect his attacks. He swung his cane at her... and to his surprise, she retreated from it.

Nor was it just her. The masked youma also jumped to her feet and backed defensively away, leaving Sailor Moon free to clamber back up.

The three enemies watched the two heroes from behind their fighting stances, while Tuxedo Kamen stood protectively between them and Sailor Moon. His mind was running through his options, none of which were good. The opponents facing them weren't attacking yet, but he had no doubt that they would be on them the instant he and Sailor Moon turned their backs.

But if nothing else, at least he might be able to buy time. "Go after him, Sailor Moon!" he called out. "Find some way to stop that ceremony! I'll deal with these three!"

Sailor Moon paled, opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, nodded, and scampered off in the direction Ranma had gone. Tuxedo Kamen, meanwhile, tightened his grip on his cane... and prepared to sell his life as dearly as he could.

For their part, the three enemies didn't even seem particularly concerned with the escaping Sailor Moon. They simply began to converge on Tuxedo Kamen, the masked one cracking her knuckles, the spatula youma readying a trio of her small throwing spatulas, and Shampoo twirling her mace in a menacing fashion.

Tuxedo Kamen swallowed, hard.

* * *

Blinding flashes of light exploded all around Cologne, as she, Happousai and Kunzite all unleashed their powers, obliterating everything in the vicinity. The Dark General was beset on both sides, but he shrugged off their every attack. Bombs and ki blasts alike splashed harmlessly off his shield, while he answered with wave upon wave of magical annihilation.

With an angry shout Happousai's battle aura flared, looming above all of them in a giant-sized version of himself. The aura projection linked its fingers, raised both hands high above its head, and brought them down on Kunzite's hovering form in a single, cataclysmic blow.

Cologne raised an arm in front of her face, averting her eyes slightly from the burst of light as aura and shield collided. Kunzite extended his hand palm-outward, fighting to maintain his defenses, even as the Anything Goes grandmaster fought to smash them. Nevertheless, it was already clear to Cologne what the outcome would be. _That shield is too powerful for us to break directly,_ she thought. _We have to use a different method._

While using one hand to support his barrier, Kunzite charged a sphere of energy in the other, then hurled it down at Happousai's real body. The attack tore apart the old man's ki projection on the way down, forcing the ancient pervert to leap away as the sphere hit the ground, releasing a thunderous explosion.

By the time the Happousai's feet touched ground, Cologne was standing next to him. "Having fun, Happi?" she asked.

"Eh, just wait 'till I get in a few more shots..." grumbled the old man, glaring up at the Dark General where he calmly hovered, waiting for them to attack again. "I'll pound him into the asphalt soon enough."

"I'm sure you will," replied Cologne neutrally. Then she continued in an undertone. "However, if you want to speed things up, I have a plan. I may be able to attack him behind that shield... but from what I've seen, I expect it will require most of my remaining strength. You will have to take the finishing blow."

Happousai's eyes lit up, and he began to cackle. "Leave it to me!" he told her. "I'll blast that upstart whelp so hard he'll wish he'd never been born!"

Cologne eyed her ally long and hard. "This is no game, Happi!" she hissed. "We will only get one chance, and the window will be brief. If we don't finish him quickly, you won't get out of this with just your usual beating."

But the old fool only waved her off. "You just worry about your part," he said, still laughing maliciously. "Because there isn't anybody who could get back up after what _I'm_ going to do to him."

The Joketsuzoku elder opened her mouth to say more, but Happousai was already bouncing away, circling back and forth around Kunzite as he waited for his opening. Cologne sighed, offered up a quick prayer to the ancestors, and began to walk toward Kunzite.

The white-haired general looked down at her impassively as she approached. "Finished planning?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cologne's only response was to raise her cane into a ready position, facing him head-on. Kunzite shrugged. "Very well then. I am looking forward to seeing how you intend to fight me now." Then he raised his hand, charging up another immensely powerful magic attack, and hurled it down at her.

_There!_ The ancient master thrust out her cane at the only possible instant, calling on all her power for this one desperate chance. A beam of ki shot forth from the tip of her weapon and struck Kunzite's attack as Cologne screamed a Joketsuzoku battle cry. The full power of her life force clashed with the might of the general's sorcery, and her strength was enough to destabilize his attack. It detonated prematurely... while it was still only halfway out of Kunzite's shield.

The resulting explosion hurled the general back through the air, propelled by the force of his own overwhelming power. He tumbled in a long, elliptical arc, eventually crashing back to earth a long way off.

"Happi, _now!_" Cologne shouted, even as she sagged to one knee from the effort of what she had done. But Happousai was already picking up the attack. He leaped high into the air, soaring above the Dark General to obtain the perfect vantage point to strike at his opponent's prone form.

"Take this!" the withered pervert shouted gleefully. "Anything Goes Ultimate Attack! _Happodaikarin Shower!_"

Happousai's arms blurred into invisibility, flinging out lit explosives as fast as he possibly could. He tossed them left and right, scores upon scores of them, sending them down from above like countless raindrops of impending doom. Cologne held her breath, watching as the ridiculous barrage of bombs plummeted toward the fallen general.

Then Kunzite's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with fury. He made two nearly simultaneous gestures—first with one hand, followed immediately by the other. The first gesture created a small black dome of energy around himself, sealing him off from the bombs and their burning fuses. The second gesture created a much larger dome around the first one, enclosing not only Kunzite, but Happousai as well.

And then he thrust his hands out, causing the inner dome to expand, while the outer dome contracted.

Cologne caught a glimpse of Happousai's startled face, as he was caught in between the two force shields. Cut off from both Kunzite and outside help, he was trapped in that thin shell, alone.

Alone... except for well over a hundred lit Happodaikarins.

The first fuse reached its end an instant later, and that explosion triggered the rest of them in a blinding chain reaction. The explosion raged through the shell between the two domes, super-compressed to an unbelievable degree. The barriers vibrated crazily, even starting to smoke a bit. But they held, focusing the entire destructive force of Happousai's onslaught into the narrow space between them.

Flame from the blasts obscured Cologne's view of what was inside the barriers for a moment, but when it passed Kunzite was back on his feet. His uniform was now ripped in several places, and a trickle of blood from a cut on his forehead was running down his face.

Then he dispelled the two black domes, and Cologne saw something tumble to the ground—a small, burnt thing that was barely recognizable as Happousai. A deafening roar went up from the watching youma, on seeing the first true defeat in the battle.

Kunzite, for his part, walked over to where Happi lay and gave the body a small nudge with the toe of his boot. The ancient pervert responded with a few small, spasmodic twitches, and a small wheeze. Nodding in a satisfied manner, the general then turned to face Cologne.

"Well done," he told her. "That was an inventive tactic. Making use of my own attack as a way to bypass my defenses. You almost had me."

The he took to the air once more, re-forming his swirling personal shield. "However..." he went on. "It's not an opening I'll give you twice."

Cologne pushed herself back to her feet, leaning on her cane as she watched the general approach. As he drew nearer, a chant began to rise up from the surrounding army. It started slow at first, but was soon picked up by thousands upon thousands of youma throats, steady, rhythmic.

Its volume and intensity kept building, and soon the youma began stomping on the rooftops and punching the ground in time with it. It was a death chant, marking off time until the final blow.

Cologne took a deep, shuddering breath, then stood fully erect, holding up her cane in a guard position, waiting as the Dark General closed in, and the youma chanting grew louder and louder.


	22. Final Stand

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** Many thanks, as always, to Lathis for his help in beta-reading this chapter. Also—fun news—he's got a new webcomic version going of the early part of his Teen Titans/Ranma crossover, which I recommend checking out. You can find a link to it in my profile.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Final Stand

Nephrite floated high above the battlefield, arms crossed, watching with detached indifference as his constructs attacked the old woman. _If only she was my greatest worry..._ the Dark General thought.

His opponent's cane was flashing back and forth, holding back the blue-tinted creatures, but it was only delaying the inevitable. None of the damage she did was permanent, while his puppets were clearly wearing her down.

The lion leaped at her, claws outstretched, but she ducked under it. Then she drove her cane up into its stomach, flinging it into the charging bear and sending them both flying. She immediately had to dodge a trio of shots from the centaur, who was galloping around the periphery of the battle.

Nephrite nodded approvingly at her efforts. Then he directed the dragon circling overhead to come in for another pass.

His imminent victory should have brought more pleasure than it did, but the general's thoughts were occupied by other, more troubling matters. He looked over to where Kunzite was fighting the other crone. _What is he planning?_ Nephrite wondered.

In theory, Kunzite's proposal had been simple. The three generals as equal partners, committing equal portions of their armies. Share the risk, share the credit, share the blame should Queen Beryl be displeased by their initiative in launching this offensive in what was—technically—still Jadeite's jurisdiction. As a way of breaking the deadlock that had formed between him and Zoisite, it seemed an ideal compromise.

Nephrite had agreed to it. And yet doubts troubled him nonetheless. _To all appearances they are honoring the agreement,_ he thought. _But I can't lower my guard. They might still have some way to twist all of this to their benefit and my loss. But how?_

A glee-filled laugh drew Nephrite's attention away from Kunzite, down to where Zoisite was fighting the robed boy. They each had a sword out, the boy wielding a steel blade, Zoisite wielding a blade of conjured crystal.

The blonde general was utterly dominating the battle—little surprise, since the boy looked half-dead. Zoisite drove his opponent stumbling back, hacking away at him, inflicting shallow cut after shallow cut. _He could go for the kill at any time,_ Nephrite noted clinically. _He's just playing with him now._

The general shook his head, then turned his attention back to his own fight. His suspicions notwithstanding, at the moment there was nothing to do but carry forward. He would crush the opponent before him, and if Kunzite and Zoisite did have some scheme planned, he would have to try and catch it before it was too late.

* * *

Beneda knelt down, lowering her match to the last group of incense sticks and lighting them each in turn. She grimaced at the smell; Ranma had bought the most noxious type he could find, in keeping with their image.

The disgusting odor wafted out from many groups of such sticks scattered all throughout the gym. It also mixed with the smell of the paint they had covered the walls with, resulting in a combined scent that was spectacularly foul.

Around her, the floor was covered in white mist, courtesy of the dry ice machine that they had recently turned on. It writhed silently along the ground, looking particularly eerie in the otherwise dark gloom that the gym had been filled with.

The youma turned to where Ryouga was sitting slumped over nearby. "All right, let's head down into the control room. I don't know how much longer I can take the stench up here."

The lost boy nodded wearily and struggled to rise. Beneda reached down a hand and helped him to his feet, then maneuvered one of his arms over her shoulders so that she could help support him. "We've almost pulled it off," she said, trying to encourage him as they stumbled back, following the leftmost wall. "Just a little bit longer. And then you can rest."

Ryouga let out a laugh that was barely more than a breath. "Sounds nice," he said. "Right now... I feel like I could sleep for a week. Maybe a month."

He certainly looked like it. Beneda was half-afraid he might collapse at any second. "Don't worry," she told him. "Ranma will handle everything else. You just take it easy."

The idea of Ranma handling everything else prompted a bit of grumbling from the lost boy, but he was too worn out to seriously object. The two of them continued on, eventually reaching the foot of the stage. Beneda hopped up onto it, then turned to pull Ryouga up as well.

It was then that she saw the door on the far side of the room start to nudge open. The youma frowned. Was Ranma back already? Hearing the noise, Ryouga turned as well...

...just in time to see the Senshi's cat poke its head through the opening in the doorway.

Beneda cursed under her breath at the unforeseen complication... but her reaction had _nothing_ on Ryouga's. "Oh no," the lost boy whispered. "Oh no, not _this!_" Then, without warning, and to Beneda's shock, he shoved himself away from the stage and charged headlong at the cat.

"Wait...!" the youma couldn't understand why he thought the cat's presence was _that_ much of a problem—and even if it was, she was sure it would be better for her or Ranma to handle it, rather than someone so injured. But before she could voice any such concerns Ryouga had already covered more than half the gym floor. She could only run after him, hoping to help.

The cat turned her head and saw Ryouga coming, just as the lost boy took a flying leap at her. The feline's eyes bulged, and she leaped back reflexively, jumping back into the hallway outside. Ryouga's hands snatched at air a second later, but he threw the door wide open and continued to give chase. "Stay here to help Ranma!" he shouted back over his shoulder at Beneda as he ran. "I'll handle this!"

"But—!" Beneda started to protest, but there wasn't much she could do to stop him. He continued to chase doggedly after the cat, making repeated grabs that the cat just barely managed to evade. The two of them vanished down the hallway, and the youma was left standing there, her mouth hanging open.

Then she heard more footsteps, this time approaching the gym. _Ranma!_ she thought. _And that means that the Senshi can't be far behind! I need to get down to our control room right away!_

Beneda sprinted back to the stage, vaulted up onto it and moved over to the trap door. She opened it—but then hesitated as she caught sight of something white in the corner of her eye, lying off to the side of the stage.

It was the diagram of the building, the one she had taken off Gosunkugi's unconscious body, the one she had been about to ask Ukyo to look at before Kodachi's appearance. In the panic surrounding the bowl's loss, she had forgotten about it completely.

Knowing she had only seconds, Beneda darted over to the sheet of paper, snatched it up, then ran back and jumped through the trap door into the room underneath the stage, making sure to close it again once she had gone through. Then she glanced around. It was no great surprise when she saw that Gosunkugi himself had already recovered and fled, but she cursed under her breath anyway.

She hurried over to the jury-rigged control board they had set up, reading and re-reading the scrawled labels on all the switches and knobs as she prepared to operate it in support of what was about to happen above. It controlled everything—the lights, the sounds, the other special effects. She would have to trigger everything exactly according to Ranma's cues.

At the same time, she spread the crumpled diagram out in front of her. This building plan was the key to whatever subterfuge Gosunkugi had planned; she was certain of it.

She just hoped she could figure it out in time. None of the others were around to explain the various terms of human technology and architecture to her... but there was nothing for it but to try her best.

* * *

Ryouga pounded through the halls of Furinkan, his Dark Lord's cape billowing out behind him, straining with all his might to keep the fleeing cat in view. His body felt like it was falling apart with every step, rebelling violently against the fresh demands he was putting on it. Sweat was pouring down his face, he was seeing double, and he had to constantly fight back the urge to vomit.

But he pressed on. He had no other choice. He _couldn't_ let that cat back into the gym! Of all their opponents—generals, youma, Senshi—that cat was the most dangerous of them all, capable of upending their entire plan just by _being there_. He had to catch her!

The small creature went to turn yet another corner, and Ryouga forced himself into an extra burst of speed to stay with her as she went around it. With his sense of direction, he dared not lose sight of her, even for a second.

He succeeded in staying with her around the corner, but could not quite control all of his momentum and ended up crashing into the opposite wall, pushing off of it as he continued after her. Then, in a flash of inspiration, he reached up and yanked at his turban, causing the white cloth wrapped around his head to unravel.

Channeling a tiny spark of his ki into the fabric, he whipped it through the air at the cat...

* * *

Luna was running at full tilt when she felt the coils of cloth snake around her. A second later they tightened, jerking her to an abrupt stop.

She looked back over her shoulder to see the Dark Lord holding fast to the other end, smiling. He then began to pull hand over hand, reeling her in as her claws scratched uselessly for purchase along the floor. "Come on, cat," he muttered. "We've already taken care of your masters. Don't make us do the same to you."

_"Murderer!"_ she shouted, and abandoned her attempts to resist his pull. Instead she launched herself right at her enemy's face, claws scratching wildly. The sheer, audacious desperation of the maneuver caught the Dark Lord off guard, and she managed to get a few good scratches in before winding the cloth around his neck then jumping past him.

Her claws lashed out on the way down, shredding into the fabric, weakening it enough that the force of her fall snapped it completely. She hit the ground in a tumble, then quickly regained her footing and raced back the way she had come. But already the Dark Lord was untangling his snare, and was about to hurl it again.

Swerving, she threw herself at a door to her left. She slammed into it with all her might, and she managed to push it open just in time to duck inside and avoid the second swipe of his cloth whip.

On the other side, she found herself in one of the school bathrooms. She ran farther in—not a moment too soon, as her enemy came barreling in right after her, tearing the door completely out of its frame.

Her tiny form rocketed forward, away from him. She had no long-term plan. She had not had one for a while now. Surviving each moment was proving to be challenge enough, and she could only hope against hope that something might present itself.

But the bathroom was a dead end. There were no windows, no other exits, nothing except the door that the Dark Lord was standing in front of. She ran, but all too soon the blank wall facing her forced her to skid to a halt, hesitating for just a moment as she tried to think of what to do.

It was a moment too long. Her enemy made a flying leap, diving headlong at her and grabbing hold of her with both hands. The two of them continued to skid along the floor until they crashed into the far wall, the Dark Lord absorbing the impact on his shoulder. The force of the collision demolished a good chunk of the wall, covering them both in broken tile and plaster.

Luna strained and thrashed, writhing in his grasp as only a crazed cat could. She clawed and bit at his arms, trying with all her might to break free, but his grip did not falter. _"Ow!"_ the Dark Lord shouted. "Damn it, cut that out!"

The moon cat did not listen. She knew that he could snap her neck at any moment, but she would not—_could_ not—surrender, not to the ones that had killed her girls. She fought on, heedless of anything he said...

...until she noticed an odd creaking sound coming from off to her left.

In unison, both she and her captor turned their heads to look. The noise was coming from the damaged section of the wall. More specifically, it was coming from the pipes that were running through it, leading to a nearby row of sinks. The crash had not just broken the wall, it had damaged the plumbing inside it. Even now, there were cracks in one of the pipes, cracks that were spreading wider and wider under the pressure of the water contained within.

For some reason, the Dark Lord's face went deathly pale at the sight. "Oh _shi—_" he began, but he was cut off as the pipe finally exploded, and they were hit by a torrent of ice-cold water.

Luna tumbled spluttering through the air, unable to see clearly due to the water in her eyes. Nevertheless, the instant her paws touched ground she was running, half-blind, back toward the doorway. She could not let this stroke of fortune go to waste!

Throwing herself forward with all the speed she possessed, she shot out through the shattered doorway and into the hallway beyond. She made a sharp turn, swerving back toward the gym again. Already she could hear the sounds of pursuit behind her. Although they sounded... different, somehow.

After a few seconds of running, she chanced a look back over her shoulder, and proceeded to boggle in surprise. The Dark Lord was no longer anywhere to be seen. Instead, she was being chased by a small black piglet, right on her heels.

The piglet took advantage of her befuddlement, putting on an extra burst of speed and slamming into her headfirst. The two of them tumbled, rolling one over the other until Luna lashed out with both her hindpaws, kicking the other animal away.

Luna pulled herself back to her feet and faced her unexpected opponent, even as it did the same. Belatedly, she realized that the piglet was now between her and her destination.

Then the moon cat spoke. "I don't know what's going on here," she said, raising a paw and extending her claws. "But I won't let you stand in my way."

The piglet raised its fore-hooves as well, going into something that actually looked like an odd sort of fighting stance. It was swaying drunkenly and breathing hard, but it still said one word in reply. "Bwee."

And then—with everything hanging in the balance—the two small black animals charged straight at each other.

* * *

Her heart hammering in her chest, Sailor Moon ran in the direction she had seen the Dark Lord go. Panic clouded her thoughts, panic at the knowledge of what this Ranma person was trying to do... and panic at the knowledge that she was the only one left who could stop him.

Soon she came to a stop outside the entrance to the school gym. There was a spectral white mist seeping out into the hallway from under the door. _This... must be the place..._ she thought.

Her legs were trembling. She had no idea what she could possibly do. On the other side of that door was an enemy that had torn through youma after youma, an enemy that had laid low a Dark General, an enemy that had withstood every attack the Senshi had attempted. Now she was alone, completely alone... facing a fight she was certain she could not win.

_I wish Luna was here..._ the blonde Senshi thought miserably. Even from the beginning her cat had been there to drag her, sometimes kicking and screaming, through the constant situations where the young girl was out of her depth. _I... I can't do this all by myself!_

But there was no one else. There were no other options, no second chances. If she didn't stop these Dark Lords here and now, then the whole world, all her friends and family, would be their slaves before the day was out.

She stared long and hard at the door, clenching her fists until her hands hurt. Then, taking a deep, shuddering breath, she flung the door wide open and took a few steps into the room beyond.

The stench was the first thing to hit her, causing her to recoil immediately. It was like nothing she had ever smelled before, a disgusting reek so strong that it felt almost like walking into a wall. She gagged a little, holding her nose for a few moments as she looked around.

Visibility was almost non-existent in the gloom. The main source of light was from the doorway behind her, but other than that the only illumination was from small candles scattered across the gym, and the glowing sigils painted into the otherwise-dark walls. The white mist she had seen earlier covered the floor, winding around the many piles of mystical-looking paraphernalia that loomed in the darkness.

Raising her hand to her forehead, Sailor Moon took her tiara in hand, ready to throw it. Slowly, step by step, she moved deeper into the evil lair. Her eyes shifted nervously back and forth, searching the shadows for any signs of movement. But there was nothing, her own breathing the loudest sound in the choking silence.

"_Muahahahaha!_ At last!"

Sailor Moon let out a startled yelp, even as a spotlight snapped on, casting a circle of blood-red light onto the center of the stage at the far end of the gym. Then a black shadow dropped from the ceiling, its cloak billowing behind it as it plummeted down to land dead center in the pool of crimson radiance. It was the Dark Lord himself.

A smirk was on Ranma's face. "So in the end, it comes down to this," he intoned, clenching a fist in her direction. "You and me, to decide the fate of the planet! Prepare yourself, Sailor Moon... _'cause this is your final stand!_"

_I'm going to die,_ was the thought running through Sailor Moon's mind. But she drew herself up, looked the Dark Lord in the eye, and shouted back in a trembling voice. "Your plans of conquest and disrupting the peace of this world are something that I cannot stand by and allow! _In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!_"

* * *

Ryogua let out a squeaking battle cry as he pounded down the hallway at his feline opponent. The cat met his charge head-on, the two animals colliding with bone-jarring force. The piglet—the lighter of the two—was knocked stumbling backward, and the cat followed by slashing him across the face with her claws.

White-hot lines of pain carved themselves into the piglet's cheek, as his head was snapped to one side. The cat tried to repeat the attack with her other paw, but Ryouga ducked his head at the last moment, letting the claws slice over him. He then surged forward under her guard, slamming his head into her center of mass.

It was the cat who was staggering now. Ryogua kept driving forward, pushing her back several steps. But then she recovered, clamping down with her teeth on the back of his neck.

Ryouga squealed and bucked as the sharp incisors cut into his flesh. He tried to dislodge the other animal, thrashing, striking out with his hooves. Eventually a lucky blow caught the cat right in the eye, disorienting her enough for him to throw her off and stumble away.

The cat allowed him no rest. She pounced at him again, claws outstretched. Gathering his strength, Ryouga leapt straight up, shooting straight to the ceiling as the cat landed where he had just been standing. Twisting, he kicked right back off the ceiling again, crashing down on the cat from above and driving her to the floor.

Now it was Ryouga's turn to clamp down his jaws on the cat's neck, gripping with his teeth while he battered the feline with his hooves left and right. Nevertheless, the cat weathered his attacks, climbing back to her feet and taking off toward the gym with the piglet still clinging on her back.

They careened through the hallways, continuing to pick up speed. The cat swerved left and right constantly, trying to throw off her foe. Ryouga hung on for dear life, striking at her when he had the chance.

Then the cat made her most violent swerve yet, as she rounded a corner. Ryouga was thrown rightward, barely maintaining his grip...

... and then the cat slammed him into the wall, dragging him along it. Ryouga was knocked spinning away, flipping through the air until he landed, his hooves skittering along the floor until he slid to a stop.

His vision was swimming, his blood was thumping in his ears, but he forced his well-over-half-dead body forward, after the fleeing cat. She was already far ahead of him, moving toward a particular door... one with white mist seeping out of it.

Ryouga's blood ran cold. _No! After all that, we're back at the gym!_ The realization of how close they were to complete disaster lent renewed power to his legs, and he shot across the floor in a desperate blur of black. The cat reached the doorway, slowing down a little to make the turn... and Ryouga plowed into her from the side, driving them both past the door and further down the hall.

The piglet slowed to a stop, taking a defensive position as he watched the cat tumble further down the hallway. Behind him, Ryouga heard Ranma's voice echoing out from the gym.

Ryouga's response was a mental curse. _He's already started it!_ he thought. _If he notices the cat now, it'll ruin everything! I have to stop her! No matter what, I have to hold her here!_

_

* * *

_

For a moment, all was silent inside the gym, as Sailor Moon and Ranma faced each other. Sailor Moon's mind was racing. How could she fight him? Even his minions had proven too powerful for her and her friends. What hope did she have against their master?

But she had to try. Drawing back her tiara, she hurled it at him with a cry of _"Moon Tiara Action!"_

The glowing disc sped toward its target, but Ranma simply raised one hand high. Then, just before the Moon Kingdom weapon hit him, he swung his fist down and to the right, smashing the projectile off-course in a shower of sparks.

It shot harmlessly past him, causing no damage at all. But Sailor Moon wasn't done yet. She used her control over the weapon to guide its arc, sending it swooping around at Ranma from behind. It sliced toward the back of his head, coming at him from his blind spot...

...and then, without even looking, the Dark Lord leaned casually sideways, allowing the tiara to hiss past his ear on its way back to Sailor Moon.

She caught her weapon, dismay filling her. Then, out of desperation, she ran straight at the stage, leaping into the air to attack her opponent with a flying kick.

Once more, the Dark Lord was motionless until the last second. Then, with Sailor Moon's foot less than an inch from his smirking face, he again leaned away. As her leg slid past he reached up a hand and caught hold of it, holding her in place. At the same time, his other hand came up to rest on her stomach.

He then gave her a shove, which sent her flying back through the air. She landed on her rump right at the edge of the stage, then promptly tumbled the rest of the way off it and down to the floor below with a _thud_.

_It's hopeless!_ she thought, as she scrambled back to her feet. _He's just too strong! There's no way I can beat him!_

_

* * *

_

Nephrite stroked his chin, watching from above as the final moments of his battle played themselves out.

His opponent had fought bravely, but the outcome had never been in doubt. His constructs closed in from every side, while the old woman was down on one knee, her breath heaving in and out. She could no longer even defend herself.

The general gave a mental command to the centaur archer, and it fired one of its shafts of blue-white energy at her. The beam caught her square in her chest, flinging her backward. Her body skipped along the shattered pavement, finally coming to rest a good distance away. She tried feebly to rise, but could not.

_Time for the finishing blow,_ Nephrite thought. Calling on his dragon, he gave it its orders. Obediently, the construct spiraled up to a position directly above the fallen warrior. Then, taking a deep breath, it unleashed a raging torrent of blistering flame straight down to engulf the entire area.

Even as far away as he was, the sheer heat from the column of fire caused Nephrite to turn his head away slightly, raising an arm between him and the inferno. It blazed on and on, until finally the dragon had expended its full burst. The flame died down, revealing the devastation it had wrought. Everything in the vicinity had been reduced to ash...

...except for a small, circular area right at the center of the attack. There the old woman lay, still alive, shielded by a pulsing dome of dark magical energy.

Nephrite whirled, looking over at where Kunzite was levitating. The Dark General had one hand extended outward, energy crackling in his palm as he maintained the shield protecting the old woman. _"Kunzite?"_ Nephrite demanded, incredulous. "What is the meaning of this?"

The white-haired general dispelled his shield with a wave of his hand. "Enough, Nephrite," he said. "She is beaten. We will now proceed with the next step."

"Next step?" echoed Nephrite, an unpleasant apprehension forming in his stomach. "You never said anything about this!"

Kunzite smirked. "Didn't I? How remiss of me. I suppose I wanted to... evaluate... these four warriors for myself before bothering you with such trivial details."

As he spoke, the old woman he had been fighting gathered her strength and leaped into the air at him. Kunzite made a small gesture, grabbing her with his telekinesis in mid-lunge. Then he slammed her down into the pavement so hard that it shattered for yards in every direction.

He then lifted her up again, then slammed her back down, repeating the process over and over as he spoke to Nephrite. "These exceptional fighters were all exhausted from the first moment they engaged us, and yet they've managed to put up a commendable struggle. Think of how powerful they would be at full strength! It would be a waste to simply kill them, wouldn't you say?

Nephrite frowned. "You can't be serious. You want to use them to aid the Dark Kingdom cause? How could we ever trust them?"

"Well, 'trust' doesn't figure into it," was Kunzite's amused reply. "Or have you forgotten the particular ability that I prefer to cultivate in my own elite youma?"

It was then—too late—that Nephrite realized the true nature of Kunzite's plan, and how he intended to come out ahead in this venture. Possession. _That_ was the power Kunzite's youma were known for. The ability to inhabit, to command the bodies of other creatures. And he intended to use it to make hosts of these defeated foes.

Share the credit equally for this excursion? Of course Kunzite had been willing to do it. Because only _he_ would be walking away with four ridiculously powerful new servitors. Nephrite imagined what a youma could do, powered by the mammoth reserves of life energy that these enemies would have at their peak, and his fists clenched.

"Surely you see the wisdom in this, Nephrite," came Zoisite's mocking voice from off to the side. "Under our control, they will be a great aid to our common cause!" As he spoke, he hurled the young man he had been fighting through the air, to crash to earth next to the old woman Kunzite had just finished beating into unconsciousness.

Kunzite made a few more quick gestures, and the burnt old man and Nephrite's foe both flew through the air to join the pile. Then the white-haired general extended his hand toward the army surrounding them and beckoned.

There was a small disturbance in the huge throng of youma, as four particular youma pushed their way to the front. They jumped down from the rooftop they were on, and began to walk across the wide, razed expanse toward the spot where the defeated enemies had been thrown.

Nephrite ground his teeth, but in this situation there was nothing he could do. Nothing except watch, as his rivals prepared to gain four servants of overwhelming strength.

* * *

Slowly, his arms trembling, Mousse pushed himself up to his knees. Around him lay the unconscious or semi-conscious bodies of the most powerful martial artists he had ever met. Further on, floating in the air, were the legendary sorcerers who had defeated them, barely even looking tired. And even further on were thousands and thousands of youma, surrounding them entirely.

And the only one left who could take action was him.

_Well..._ he thought, as he swept his gaze across all the forces arrayed against him. _These aren't the best odds._

He noticed that Kunzite was looking down at him with a steel-eyed gaze. _One wrong move,_ Mousse thought. _ And he'll squash me like a bug._

But the hidden weapons master made no moves, not to attack, not to flee. He simply knelt there, hoarding what little strength he had left like a miser... resting, preparing for one final push.

Because Mousse _did_ have an idea—one last, flimsy hope for survival. It was desperate. It was more than likely to fail.

And worst of all, it was _entirely_ dependent on Ranma pulling off his plan.

_Come on, Saotome..._ Mousse thought. _You've always had the devil's own luck. Just please... come through for all of us this time!_

_

* * *

_

Ryouga watched his feline opponent, trying his best to predict how she would attack. He could tell that the sound of Ranma's voice had only increased her urgency to get past him and into the room where the "ritual" was taking place.

But that was nothing compared to what happened when she heard Sailor Moon's voice. A look of stunned hope blossomed over her face, and Ryouga saw her mouth the words "She's _alive!_"

Then the cat threw herself at him once more... and this time she was fighting with insane determination, like a small, furry devil. In that moment, as she tore into him, Ryouga could almost understand what it was that Ranma saw whenever the pigtailed boy looked at a cat.

Her claws ripped at him from every direction, sending him reeling under the assault. He tried to counterattack, tried to halt her, but he was too weak, and she was too fast. She shredded his forelegs when he raised them in defense, and shredded his body when they dropped. He stumbled, and she slammed her shoulder into him, driving him ever backward, ever closer to that _damn door_, ever closer to Ranma's line of sight.

Ryouga wrapped his forelegs around her, trying to pin her claws to her sides, but the cat just kept pressing forward. His hooves slid along the floor, trying to find the purchase necessary to dig in, but failing. She pushed him slowly back, and back, and back, until he had reached the very edge of the doorway.

The piglet raised his head, looking the cat right in the eye, their faces almost touching. He could see the determination burning in her expression, and he knew that she would give her life if it meant she could get into that room and aid the girl in some way. It made Ryouga feel more than a little dirty, standing in the way of feelings like that.

But he had people he needed to protect as well. This was for the good of Beneda, Akane, all his friends in Nerima... and even the Senshi themselves, though they didn't realize it. For everyone's sake, he _couldn't_ let her past!

He was tired, pushing himself long past what should have been his point of collapse. All four of his legs were straining to their utmost to hold her back... but it wasn't enough. In another instant she would push him into Ranma's view, and their entire scheme would fall apart as soon as he noticed her. And so, with nothing else to try, Ryouga did the only thing he could think of.

He pulled his head as far back as he could, then slammed it down in a head-butt that landed directly on the crescent-shaped mark on the cat's forehead.

The results were more dramatic than he had dared hope. Her relentless push immediately faltered as she wobbled back, her eyes crossing a little. Ryouga lunged after her, repeating the attack a second, then a third time.

By then, the cat was in no position to fight back. She was barely standing... but Ryouga knew that the only way to reliably stop someone with her level of dedication was to knock her completely unconscious. Pulling back his head one more time, he slammed it down with all the force his piglet body could muster.

The cat staggered, tottered, then flopped over on her side, out cold.

Ryouga looked down at her, his breath shuddering in and out. He had won, but he could feel no pride in his victory. She hadn't been their enemy—not really, not apart from the lies that they themselves had been spinning. She had just been trying to save her friend, to do something good, and he had beaten her into unconsciousness for it.

_I guess this is what it is to be a villain,_ thought Ryouga disgustedly. _Well to hell with it. I can't wait until this whole thing is over._

Even as he thought the words, his vision was spiraling into blackness. With the threat defeated, all the injuries and exertions that he had pushed so far beyond his reasonable limits would no longer be denied. _Guess... this is as far as I go, for now..._ he thought. _The rest is yours, Ranma. You'd better not screw this up..._

And with that, he flopped over on his side right next to the cat.

* * *

Sailor Moon looked helplessly at the gloating Dark Lord, her mind racing in panicked circles, but unable to come up with any ideas. Everything she had tried had been effortlessly thwarted. The world was about to end, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

The Dark Lords chuckled and crossed his arms. "Is that all you got?" he asked. "Too bad. I was hoping for more of a challenge from this planet's defenders."

"I... I _will_ stop you!" shot back Sailor Moon, though fear made her voice crack slightly. She didn't know what else to say.

"Hah! You're too late!" replied her enemy. "Everything is ready! The stars are in alignment! I can bring my army thought _whenever I want!_"

As if in response to his words, a low, booming noise began to rumble up from the ground, loud enough that Sailor Moon could feel the vibration in her chest. The mystic fog swirling along the floor grew thicker, and pale glowing lights began to blink on and off from within the scattered piles of magical equipment. "No..." the blonde Senshi whispered.

_"Yes!"_ exulted Ranma, sweeping his arm in a wide gesture toward one side of the room. "Now you will see the true power of my empire! These are the last moments of your world's freedom, before it is crushed by my legions of Evil! Behold! The ritual is complete! The cosmic gate opens! Nothing can stop me now! _Nothing!_" He threw his head back, and let out a long, maniacal laugh.

Sailor Moon turned to look in the direction he had gestured... and froze, her eyes widening in shock.

There, in the shadows off to the side, stood a large altar. It had been barely visible before, but now it was illuminated by the blinking lights surrounding it. The extra light revealed it to be covered in all manner of arcane symbols.

And there, atop that altar, sat an ancient-looking bowl with a mass of disgusting sludge bubbling within it. On the bowl's side was a picture of an ox and a snake.

Sailor Moon's breath caught in her throat, as her thoughts raced back to earlier that day, to the poor girl that these Dark Lords had taken hostage. The Senshi remembered what the girl had overheard: that the Dark Lords' ability to exist in this dimension was tied to a magical artifact... called the "Sacred Grail of the Snake and Ox."

She spun back to face the Dark Lord, who was still looking down at her from the stage with a contemptuous sneer. _He doesn't realize!_ she thought. _He doesn't know that I know his weak point!_

Her hands began to tremble with sudden hope as she drew her tiara once more. "No matter how hard you try... you'll never enslave this world!" she shouted defiantly, acting as though she were going to throw her weapon at the Dark Lord again. "I believe that the power of love and justice will always be stronger than hate and fear!"

Ranma's only reply was a snort. Taking a deep breath, Sailor Moon drew her arm back as far as she could...

...and then she whirled with all the speed she possessed, hurling the tiara _not_ at her enemy, but at the bowl resting on the altar.

_"Noooooooooo!"_ the Dark Lord howled, stretching out an arm as though to somehow stop it. But the weapon shot onward, slicing through the air... until it struck the bowl, shattering it to fragments.

Immediately, a blaring alarm klaxon split the air. The once-darkened room suddenly lit up, as countless red warning lights began to flash, bathing everything in their bloody hues. Up on the stage, the Dark Lord was looking frantically left and right, as though trying to find a way to salvage the situation.

Finally, he turned back to the blonde Senshi. "Curse you Sailor Moon!" he shouted, shaking his fist. _"Cuuuuuurse _you! _How did you know?"_

"You were defeated by your own evil in taking hostages!" the girl shouted back, pointing at him. "Thanks to that, we knew _exactly_ what to do! You're finished!"

The Dark Lord looked like he was about to speak—but then his eyes suddenly bulged, and he clutched at his throat with both hands. He started to convulse violently, as though struck by an electric shock. Garbled noises began to pour from his mouth, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Finally he gave one last scream... and then there was a blinding explosion.

Sailor Moon stumbled back slightly, blinking the afterimages out of her eyes. Her jaw dropped at the sight that greeted her.

The stage was completely empty. The Dark Lord had been destroyed right in front of her eyes!

* * *

Underneath the stage, Ranma landed in a crouch, glancing up at the trap door above to make sure it had closed properly. He gave a satisfied nod when he saw that it had, then he turned to where Beneda was sitting at the control board. "Play the recording!" he whispered.

Then he pulled a small box of matches from his pocket, struck one, and began lighting the fuses that ran from the control room up to the gym above.

* * *

Sailor Moon stood in the middle of the gym, surrounded by the flashing red lights and alarms, still not quite comprehending what had just happened. _I... I did it!_ she thought at last. _I stopped them!_

Her celebratory thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a woman's voice, echoing over the alarms. "System failure. System failure," the voice recited in a perfectly calm and relaxing voice that might have been talking about the weather. "Loss of the summoning artifact will result in... oh my! Complete destruction of the premises! It would probably be a good idea for you to leave as quickly as you can!"

The blonde Senshi's eyes bulged, and she turned to run. But as she did something caught her eye, and she paused for just an instant.

It was the altar that the bowl had been resting on. In the glare of the warning lights she could see it clearer now, and she noticed that while most of the symbols on it were mystic, incomprehensible runes, three of the symbols were just ordinary Japanese kanji, written in black paint.

They were arranged in a triangle. The symbol on the top was the kanji for "motion", while the bottom two were the kanji for "contemplation" and "opposition." Sailor Moon frowned, puzzled as to what it could mean.

But then one of the piles of magical equipment suddenly exploded, blasting debris everywhere. The explosion was followed by a second, then a third. With a yelp Sailor Moon raced for the exit, holding both hands protectively over her head, her twin ponytails streaming out behind her.

On exiting into the hallway she looked around, then gasped as she saw Luna lying unconscious on the floor, next to a black piglet who was in a similar plight. _Those monsters!_ she thought. _How could they do this to such cute, harmless animals?_

Picking up one animal under each arm, she ran onward. There was no telling how big the final explosion would be. She needed to find the others!

* * *

The empty black void of unconsciousness gave way to the sensation of being shaken hard by the shoulder. Sailor Mercury gasped, jerking her head up in an disoriented fashion as she woke.

"You're all right!" The first thing to greet her was Sailor Moon's relieved exclamation. Sailor Mercury blinked, her vision focusing to see the blonde Senshi kneeling over her. Sailor Mars was standing nearby as well, holding an unconscious Luna under one arm and... a small black piglet under the other.

The Senshi of water opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but Sailor Moon was already talking in a rapid-fire stream, not even pausing for breath. "We gotta get out of here 'cause I broke the bowl just like you said to and it got rid of the Dark Lords except it messed up a bunch of other stuff and now _everything's going to explode!_"

There were countless questions that Sailor Mercury wanted to ask, but she had gotten the gist of it, and it seemed that time was of the essence. So she simply nodded, and climbed to her feet. "Then let's go!"

"Wait!" said Sailor Moon. "Tuxedo Kamen was here too! He was fighting Shampoo and those two monsters so that I could get away! We have to make sure he's all right!" With that she took off, presumably in the direction where she had last seen him. The other two Senshi followed close behind, and soon enough they did indeed find the masked man.

Sailor Mercury winced. He was unconscious. His hat had been pulled down over most of his face, and his arms and legs had been hogtied behind him with strips of his own cape. His tie had been stuffed into his mouth as an impromptu gag.

Apparently, the battle had not gone well for him.

"Tuxedo Kamen!" wailed Sailor Moon, as she ran to him and began to untie his bonds. The blonde Senshi started to try and shake him awake, as she had done for Sailor Mercury, but the Senshi of water cut the attempt short by simply splashing him with a focused version of her Shabon Spray, the ice-cold water doing the job much faster.

Then all of them raced for the exit, praying that they would escape in time.

* * *

It was the blaring of the alarms that pierced the haze of pain enshrouding Jadeite's thoughts. Prying open his eyes, he managed to raise his head enough to look around.

It was then that he realized that the alarms were coming from the same direction that they had sensed the artifact from. And that he could no _longer_ sense its magical aura. Then he caught motion out of the corner of his eye, and turned just in time to see the Senshi burst out of the school's main doors further down.

Fleeing the building as though their lives depended on it.

_This..._ thought Jadeite, _...does not bode well for my current position._

He didn't have the strength to teleport very far away. But he did the best he could, his body dissolving into purple light.

* * *

Ranma glanced up as the trap door opened, and Shampoo dropped through it into the control room. "Airen!" she gushed, latching onto him with an exuberant embrace. "Plan is working! Shampoo watch sailor-girls all running away from school!"

"That's great," replied Ranma, as he tried to extract himself from Shampoo's grip. "So they're clear, then?"

"They should be, by now," said Ukyo, as she too dropped into the control room, followed by Akane. Both girls glared daggers at the amorous Joketsuzoku warrioress, but Shampoo paid them no heed. "We watched them from hiding for a bit, but when they found all their people and ran for the exit, we came back to tell you."

"One of them was even carrying P-chan with them!" added Akane, a note of perplexed worry in her voice. "What was _he_ doing here, Ranma?"

The pigtailed fighter waved his hand vaguely. "Oh, you know him. Never can tell where he'll turn up." The thought of Ryouga in the Senshi's hands was a little worrisome, but if they were carrying the piglet clear of the blast zone, that meant they probably hadn't connected him to his uncursed form.

And, one way or another, that meant it was time for the finishing touch. Striking one more match, he lit the final fuse—the one snaking up to the explosives hidden under the altar itself.

The bombs they had used up to this point had been more for show than anything else. Little more than firecrackers, to give Sailor Moon's flight a little more urgency. Not so this one. _This_ explosive had been a collaboration of every fighter in their group who used bombs in their arsenal—Mousse and Ukyo, mostly—and its goal was sheer destructive force.

The blast would wreck the gym above, covering their tracks, preventing anyone from coming back and investigating the details of their ritual. And when that happened, the Dark Lords of Nerima would be well and truly "defeated."

Ranma was very much looking forward to being dead. It was _anonymity_, like the Senshi had, that was truly the most useful advantage against foes like the Dark Kingdom... and obtaining it for themselves opened up a wealth of possibilities for their next move.

The only tricky part was Beneda, since this wouldn't automatically stop the Dark Kingdom from looking for her. But Ranma was confident they could work around that. With the threat of her "new masters" removed, it ought to be fairly straightforward to convince the Dark Kingdom that she had either died in all the fighting or fled the area. They just needed to keep her undetected until the remaining heat had died down—something they had become extremely practiced at over the past few days.

The burning fuse was halfway to the ceiling now. Akane spoke up, her voice a little nervous. "Are you sure we'll be all right down here?"

"We ought to be," answered Ranma. He had a fairly extensive... practical experience... with being on the receiving end of explosions. "The blast shouldn't reach down here, I don't think."

Akane was still hesitant, though. "But... what about the extra explosive that you asked me to get from Mousse? I... I added a _lot_, to make sure we didn't leave any clues behind..."

The statement caused Ukyo to frown, and she turned toward the Tendo girl. "Wait! What are you talking about?"

"It was back while we were setting everything up," answered Akane. "Ranma asked me to get some more of the explosive and put it under the altar. Don't you remember? You were there too, I think."

"Well, of course I was there," said Ukyo, her worried look growing. "Akane, it was _me_ that Ranma asked to do that!"

"What?" Akane shook her head. "No, no, that can't be right. I'm certain it was me that he was talking to!"

"Violent girl and spatula girl both imagining things," Shampoo interjected. "Airen very clearly looking at _Shampoo_ when ask for more bomb stuff!"

Ranma looked back and forth between the three girls, his face growing paler with each one who spoke. "So..." he said at last, swallowing hard. "Which one of you _actually_ added the explosives?"

_"I did!"_ exclaimed each of the three girls, in perfect unison. Hearing that, Ranma whirled around, looking up at the fuse... just in time to see the burning end disappear up into the ceiling.

"Ranma?" came Beneda's inquiring voice. She was sitting somewhat apart from where he and the girls were standing, absorbed in some kind of paper diagram, apparently oblivious to the dire implications of the other conversation. "I... think we might have a problem..."

The pigtailed fighter fixed her with a you-have-got-to-be-kidding-me look. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Do you remember how insistent Gosunkugi was that our altar be placed at a specific point along the wall? I think it had something to do with this diagram, but I don't know enough about human technology to make sense out of it."

The youma traced her finger to a certain spot on the paper, then glanced up at Ranma with a puzzled expression. "What's a 'gas main'?"

Ranma hadn't thought his face could pale any further, but he managed. His mind flashed through countless possible scenarios in an instant, selecting the best one and then acting. He shoved the three girls toward the corner of the room furthest from the explosion, then leaped across the room toward Beneda.

Halfway there, he passed over the table that they had set up their control board on. Reaching down in mid-flight, he hurled the entire thing behind him, sending both it and himself flipping through the air. Shampoo caught it, slamming it down in front of their corner as a makeshift shield, while Ukyo used her huge metal spatula to brace it as best she could.

Ranma, meanwhile, continued his trajectory and hit Beneda with a flying tackle that bore the youma to the ground, where he covered her with his body.

* * *

Nephrite watched helplessly as Kunzite's four youma made their way across the battlefield. They had almost reached their prey now, and once they did, they would put their master's true plan into action.

The brown-haired general wracked his brain, trying to think of a way to prevent it from happening, but to no avail. He couldn't hope to beat Kunzite in a straight fight, and he didn't even have grounds to attempt sabotage of any kind—not in front of such a large audience of youma witnesses. This was, after all, for the good of the Dark Kingdom.

"Now, all of you!" Kunzite shouted, as his youma closed in. "Bear witness to the creation of four warriors like no youma the Dark Kingdom has ever seen! These will be my champions! The executors of my will! A symbol of the irresistible power of—"

Without warning, the sound of an explosion echoed through the air like a thunderclap, and off in the distance to Nephrite's left, a huge plume of fire blossomed up into the air. His eyes widened a little, as he and his fellow generals whirled to look at it. _What the—?_

But Nephrite barely had a moment to make sense of what he saw before there were more explosions—much closer this time. He whirled back, and saw that the blasts had come from the ground where the prisoners had been gathered. Only now the entire area was blanketed in thick smoke.

_What is going on here?_ the general wondered. _Are they trying to escape?_ But that would be impossible. Everything in the vicinity had been pounded flat. There was no cover to hide themselves, three of their number were incapacitated, and they were still completely surrounded by the youma army. It would just be a matter of waiting for the smoke to clear.

Which it soon did... revealing no trace whatsoever of the four prisoners.

"What is this?" roared Kunzite, turning this way and that, searching high and low for some trace of his prizes. "Where did they _go?_"

Nephrite was just as puzzled—though, of course, nowhere near as furious. But it was then that another voice spoke up, quavering, but filled with growing excitement. "He... he did it! Master Jadeite did it!"

Turning, Nephrite saw who the speaker was. One of the survivors of Jadeite's attack group, who had been molested by the old man until they had arrived. This one was a snake-like youma, one of Jadeite's chief lieutenants. Marceat, if Nephrite's memory served.

Staggering back to her feet, the serpentine youma continued to talk. "That explosion... it was right from the direction we were headed! Master Jadeite must have stopped their ritual, like he planned! _We've won!_"

Before she could say any more, Zoisite swooped down from above, grabbing the youma by the throat and pulling her in close. "Explain yourself," he ground out.

Marceat's eyes went wide with fright, and she began to babble as fast as she could. "We were trying to stop a ritual that those enemies were performing to draw more of their forces into this world! Our spies found out that it was all tied to an artifact that they needed to exist here! Master Jadeite must have destroyed it, and banished them all back to their own dimension!"

Nephrite threw his head back and laughed. "So it seems Jadeite didn't even need our help after all," he said. "In the end, he stopped the invasion without our assistance." True, the brown-haired general was a little disappointed in Jadeite's success, but after recent events, seeing these two foiled more than made up for it.

_"No!"_ Zoisite hurled the youma away, spinning around, looking almost on the verge of a tantrum. "No, no, _no!_ Jadeite can't just _win_—not after all we've done!"

"Calm yourself," broke in Kunzite, who had already regained his own composure. "There will be another chance. For now, if there is nothing else to be gained, we must withdraw our forces quickly, before the human armies react to our presence. I suspect we have already tarried too long here."

Zoisite ground his teeth, but under his lover's impassive gaze he eventually relented. "All right..." he said at length, petulance still lingering in his voice. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

When the explosion echoed through the air, it threw a tremor through the Dark Kingdom forces. Generals and youma alike turned, eyes searching for the cause of the sudden, violent disruption.

Mousse, however, already knew _exactly_ what it was. The explosive that he had worked so hard to help create. The sign of the success of Ranma's plan.

The perfect distraction.

The hidden weapons master knew that all their lives depended on this single half-second of misdirection. He called on every tattered shred of his remaining strength, every ounce of his willpower, every last bit of his determination to live and see Shampoo again.

And he _moved_.

In less than the blink of an eye his hands shot into his sleeves, his fingers finding, as always, the weapons he was looking for. He hurled the smoke bombs to the ground, and they burst in a series of smaller explosions that covered the area in smoke. _There. We've all just exploded to death,_ he thought dryly. _Now I just need to make it stick._

His hand shot down toward Cologne's fallen cane, snatching it up and hurling it in one smooth motion. The target was obscured inside the smoke as well, but he had memorized its exact location earlier.

The cane speared downward, catching the manhole cover right on its edge, flipping it up into the air like a giant, spinning coin. Mousse scooped up the three diminutive elders into his arms, and ran in that same direction.

Upon reaching the manhole he dumped them unceremoniously in, and kicked in Cologne's cane as well. Then, grabbing the still-spinning cover with both hands, he jumped in after them.

He slammed the cover shut behind him, muffling the _clang_ of it crashing back into place at the expense of his fingers getting mashed in-between. Then he fell, finally landing with a splash in slow-flowing sewage that reached almost up to his knees.

It wasn't, technically, all water, and it wasn't even all that cold. But it was apparently water enough _and_ cold enough to trigger his Jusenkyo curse. His human body vanished, replaced by his duck body.

And, by the sheer perversity of the universe, his duck body appeared at what had been his chest height. High enough that he got to fall into the sewage a _second_ time, this time as a small waterfowl tangled in his once-fitting robes.

* * *

Cologne was drifting back and forth at the border of consciousness when she heard a series of explosions, then felt Mousse snatch her up along with Soap and Happi. Then they were moving, and then, with a lurch, falling into a darkened place.

With an effort of the will, the old master wrenched herself back to awareness. She snatched her falling cane out of the air, then grabbed hold of Soap and hurled her sister away to land on a small ledge running along the sewer wall. Then she twisted, landing perched on her cane above the sewage below.

Mousse wasn't so lucky. He landed right in it, transforming into a duck immediately thereafter. Cologne hopped after him, fishing him out of the filth and tossing him over to the same ledge to which she had thrown her sister. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Happi's unconscious body floating gently away, but she paid it no heed.

She hopped onto the ledge herself, and only then did she allow herself to slump against the sewer wall, her entire body shuddering. How long had it been since she had faced a battle that had pushed her _this_ close to the edge? She couldn't remember.

The old master listened, straining her ears to catch the shouted arguments taking place in the world above. It seemed as though Mousse had indeed gotten them all out successfully. Impressive.

"Close one, eh?" came a barely-audible croak from her left. Cologne looked up, to see that her sister had pried her unbandaged eye open.

"Closer than I'd like," agreed Cologne. "And it's not over. Get Mousse back to the Nekohanten, and tell the others what happened. Make sure they all keep hidden for now."

"And you?" Soap asked, in a tone of voice that suggested she already knew the answer. "What will you be doing?"

"There is still one last loose end that needs to be taken care of," was Cologne's impassive reply. "And to minimize the risk of the Dark Kingdom tracking us, it needs to be taken care of as soon as possible."

"You're talking about Beneda," Soap said.

"Ranma thinks that he can keep hiding her from the Dark Kingdom search parties without compromising his own deception," replied Cologne. "But given what is at stake... I believe a more reliable solution is required."

"And of course..." Soap said, her gaze locked onto Cologne, trying to read her. "There is always the Joketsuzoku law."

"Yes," agreed Cologne. She then turned her back on her sister, and began hopping down the tunnel, moving in the direction of Furinkan, gaining speed with each hop. "Always."

* * *

Groggily, Sailor Mars picked herself up off the ground, looking around her as her teammates and Tuxedo Kamen did the same. That explosion had been no joke. Sailor Moon was saying something, but for a while all Sailor Mars could hear was the ringing in her ears.

Eventually they all collected themselves, and set about taking stock of the situation. Tuxedo Kamen, as usual, did not remain long, but vanished amidst some stirring words of encouragement soon after regaining his senses.

The next order of business was to take care of Luna, as well as the strange piglet Sailor Moon had found. It took a little while, but they were able to wake the moon cat and fill her in on the situation.

"...and then I acted like I was going to throw the tiara at _him_, so that he wouldn't realize what I was really trying to do!" Expansive hand gestures accompanied Sailor Moon's retelling. "And it totally tricked him! Then I actually threw it at the bowl, and it broke, and..." She waved her hand in the general direction of the result.

Sailor Mars had to admit, it was a pretty impressive sight. Almost half the school was simply _gone_, destroyed by the explosion, and other parts of the building were still burning. "I... guess we won..." Sailor Moon finished lamely.

A frown crossed Sailor Mercury's face. "But what about this piglet? Just how does he factor into this?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you!" said Luna. "He was fighting to stop me from getting to Sailor Moon! That piglet was in league with the Dark Lords!"

The three girls blinked, then turned to look at the animal in question. Said animal stirred in his sleep, bweeing softly in an adorably cute manner.

Three teenage hearts melted. "Awwwwww..." cooed Sailor Moon. "This little guy couldn't be evil! He was probably just being controlled by them, like they did with Shampoo!"

Luna mulled it over for a while, then sighed. "Yes, I suppose that's the most likely answer," she said. "At any rate, he won't be much trouble on his own."

"Well, in that case—" Sailor Mercury began, then stopped, her body tensing. Sailor Mars turned to see what she was looking at.

It was Jadeite. He was floating toward them, his progress slow and erratic, looking as though he might drop out of the air at any moment. His face was twisted into a rictus of pain, and yet despite it all he continued on, until he was hovering just above them.

At the same time, Sailor Mars noted additional movement out of the corner of her eye, coming from the direction of the undestroyed half of the school. It was the DD Girls, some limping, some staggering, some leaning on one another for support.

The Senshi tensed, preparing for battle. It was just to be on the safe side, though; in all honesty, in the state they were in, the assembled Dark Kingdom contingent didn't seem all that much more intimidating than the piglet.

Sure enough, Jadeite made no move to attack. "The Dark Lords..." he rasped out. "Did you... did you actually...?"

Sailor Moon went into yet another recounting of the battle against their mutual adversaries. The expressions the general's face went through during her tale were a fascinating study in irreconcilable conflict. Disbelief, and the desire to believe. Relief that the Dark Lords had lost, and utter, abject humiliation that the Senshi had saved him.

"...and then he just blew to smithereens!" finished Sailor Moon at last. "Then we all ran out before the place exploded."

"I... see..." The muscles in Jadeite's jaw were tensing in an erratic manner, but he at least managed the pretense of civility. "Well. Now that our alliance has achieved its aims, I... request that you let us leave in peace. Just as we would have done for you."

The Senshi exchanged skeptical glances. "A promise is a promise," Sailor Moon said eventually. "We won't attack you."

Jadeite managed a miniscule nod in response, probably the closest he would ever come to a "thank you". As the Senshi watched, the five battered youma slowly hobbled their way past the humans, most of them shooting glares as they did so.

As the blonde DD Girl walked past Sailor Mars, the youma's eyes fixed on the Senshi's shoulder, fixed on the hastily-bandaged gash there that had been sustained saving the youma's life. She froze in place, her hands clenching, her eyes burning with rage—and shame.

Then, suddenly, the youma's hand shot out, grabbing Sailor Mars by the front of her uniform and dragging her close until their faces were only inches apart. Both the other Senshi reacted, Sailor Moon scrambling for her tiara, Sailor Mercury preparing to execute her Shabon Spray. But Sailor Mars did not retaliate. For a long moment they simply stood there, the monster's breath hot on the Senshi's face.

Then the blonde youma spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, audible only to the two of them. "I swear to you..." she hissed. "I _swear_ to you, Senshi, that one day I will make you regret what you did."

Sailor Mars met her gaze, looking straight into those hate-filled eyes. Then, at last, she shook her head. "I don't think so," she replied, her voice equally quiet. "You don't even understand why I did it."

The youma's lip twisted, and she shoved the Senshi away. Then, without another word, she turned to depart. Sailor Moon breathed a relieved sigh, while Sailor Mercury pulled out her computer and began to adjust its settings, still looking wary from the near-altercation. "You had better leave in good faith," she warned the blonde monster. "I've set this to scan for youma signatures, so I'll know if you try to double back and attack us."

The youma's response was a sneer. "There'll be another day for that," she spat. "Enjoy the fact that you've still got your world... for now."

And with that, the youma began limping away. Sailor Mercury watched her go, glancing down at the Mercury Computer from time to time.

Suddenly she frowned, looking closer at the display and typing a few rapid keystrokes. Then she spun around, looking over her shoulder, back toward the destroyed section of the school.

_"Wait!"_ she called out. Her exclamation caused the Dark Kingdom forces to pause in their departure, and they glanced back at her even as the Senshi pointed toward where the gym had once stood.

"I'm still getting a youma reading from back there!"

* * *

Beneda groaned as consciousness returned, slowly and painfully. Her first impression was that of darkness. Her second was that of weight, something pressing down on her from above.

It took a few moments of twisting and straining, but she eventually dug her way out of what turned out to be debris, which had been covering her. Or more accurately, debris covering Ranma's body, which was in turn covering her.

_Again,_ she thought, a pang of guilt running through her. _Again, one of them was hurt shielding me._

The pigtailed fighter was still mostly buried under the debris, with only his upper torso visible, but she laid her hand on his forehead, and felt the life energy flowing through him. He was still alive.

The youma then crawled over to the corner where the girls had taken shelter. It had completely collapsed, burying them, but as she ran her palm along the surface of the debris and concentrated hard, she could feel their life energies underneath it as well. She let out a relieved breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Next, she needed to know the situation. How long had she been out? What was going on? Once she knew that, she could determine the best course of action to take. She scrambled up the wall of the crater that stretched out where the gym had once been, and peeked over its edge into the schoolyard beyond.

She could see the Senshi standing off on the other side of the yard—tiny figures that were nonetheless recognizable. They were talking with the equally distant figures of Jadeite and the DD Girls. The youma watched, transfixed, scarcely daring to breathe as the two sides interacted.

Then, to Beneda's relief, her former masters at last turned to leave. She could scarcely believe it. Against all odds, Ranma's wild plan had actually worked. They had fooled them. They were safe.

It was then that Sailor Mercury spun, shouted something about youma readings, and pointed right in her direction.

Beneda's breath seized in her chest, her relief of a moment ago turning to ash. The Senshi had detected her. And the Dark Kingdom forces had heard it too, halting their withdrawal. As she watched, both groups turned toward the crater, the Senshi breaking into a flat-out run in her direction.

Terror gripped the youma. _No, no, no!_ her thoughts screamed. _Not now! We were so close!_ She threw herself back down the crater's slope, skidding and tumbling to where Ranma lay, half-buried. "Ranma, wake up!" she pleaded, reaching out her hand toward the human boy. "The Senshi are about to—"

But then she froze, her hand extended, almost touching Ranma, but not quite, as she realized what this situation meant. Ranma was in no condition to fight after taking the blast for her. The Senshi would be here in seconds. And far worse, the Dark Kingdom forces were observing this as well.

If her former masters figured out that Ranma was still alive... If they figured out that it had all been just an elaborate ruse... If they figured it out _now_, with almost all the Neriman fighters injured or down for the count... then there would be nothing to stop them from wiping her friends out. Ryouga, Ranma, Mousse, Akane, Ukyo, Shampoo... all of them.

Panic gnawed at the youma's thoughts, causing her outstretched arm to tremble. She was afraid, as afraid as she had ever been, but over it all one single thought burned itself into her brain.

_I can't let them suspect it was all a trick._

The Senshi were almost there. She could hear their footfalls, almost to the edge of the crater. She had to make her choice.

And so, reaching down, she snatched up several larger pieces of debris lying around and piled them over Ranma's body, hiding him from sight.

She heard the Senshi race over the crater's edge and clamber down its sides, soon coming to a stop behind her. "You!" she heard Sailor Moon exclaim. "But... I smashed the bowl! How...?"

"Remember, Sailor Moon, she's originally a Dark Kingdom youma!" was Sailor Mercury's response. "Breaking the bowl wouldn't have any effect on her!"

Slowly, Beneda rose to her feet, her back still turned. She closed her eyes, trying her best to muster up her courage. Then she forced her expression into an angry snarl, and spun around to face the Senshi.

_"You!"_ she shouted at them. "You little brats destroyed my masters! We were _so close_ to ruling this whole planet... but you just had to interfere, _you filthy do-gooders!_"

Then she turned and ran, lunging for the cover of a particularly large pile of wreckage and twisted girders, hoping to at least lead them as far away from her fallen friends as possible.

* * *

Jadeite watched as the Senshi charged across the schoolyard and down into the blast crater. There were a few moments without any action, through which he waited impatiently. Then there was a blast of fire, and he saw his former youma come fleeing out into view, with the three human girls and their cat in hot pursuit.

The Dark General smiled a vindictive smile. As close to disaster as things had come, he had almost forgotten the traitor whose defection had been the spark of all this. But now, at long last, she had no more patrons left to protect her.

He was tempted to join the attack himself, to administer his vengeance personally. But strong though his desire for retribution was, the desire to avoid unnecessarily exerting his shattered body was, at this point, stronger.

No, simply observing her death would be enough for him. His eyes stayed focused on the chase, and when the monster fled into the still-standing half of the building he opened his magical senses, focusing on the distinctive locus of dark magic that marked the youma.

_You no longer have anyone left to hide behind,_ Jadeite thought. _I will enjoy watching you die like the coward you are..._

_

* * *

_

Beneda careened headlong down the ruined hallway, gasping for breath, dodging around piles of debris from collapsed walls and ceilings. She had no plan. She didn't believe for a moment that she could escape her pursuers. She was just clinging hopelessly to life, even for just a little while longer.

She heard a building crackle behind her, and fear granted her a burst of increased speed, carrying her around the corner in front of her and out of sight. A split-second later, a fireball roared down the hall and detonated. Beneda could feel the heat of the flames licking at her back.

A small, hysterical giggle escaped her lips. _It's funny,_ she thought, as she ducked out of the hallway and into a nearby stairwell, racing up the steps toward the second floor. _Everything that's happened... it all began with me running away from the Senshi. And now... at the end... I've come right back to where I started._

But then faces crossed her mind—faces of the humans she was doing this to protect. Faces of the people she counted as friends... and who counted her as a friend as well.

_No,_ she thought, a tiny smile crossing her face. _No... this isn't where I started at all. There aren't two places in the whole world further apart than where I was then and where I am now._

Beneda continued to run up and up, eventually reaching the top floor. She dashed out of the stairwell and into the hallway—

—then skidded to an abrupt stop. Standing directly in the youma's path, perfectly balanced atop her wooden cane, was the tiny form of Cologne.

This, Beneda knew instantly, was the end. She was trapped, and had no prayer of escaping the ancient master. She looked into those calculating, inscrutable eyes, hoping only that it wouldn't hurt much.

Then Cologne spoke. "I saw what you did for my son-in-law, youma. That was... a noble act."

Sudden, unexpected hope flared in Beneda's chest. Had Cologne actually changed her mind? If the powerful and mysterious old woman were willing to _aid_ her, then maybe... just maybe... it would be possible for her to somehow survive this after all!

Beneda opened her mouth, but Cologne continued before she could speak. "Nevertheless," the old woman said. "I am a Joketsuzoku. Bound to the laws of our tribe. And it is against Joketsuzoku law to allow a monster like you to live."

The bottom dropped out of Beneda's stomach, her newfound hope draining out of her as fast as it had come. There was nothing she could do anymore. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes tight and waited.

* * *

Sailor Mercury had her computer out again, scanning for the youma reading. They had lost track of their quarry momentarily when she had ducked around that corner, but now they had her again. "She went up!" the Senshi of water called out. "She's on the third floor!"

They ran up the staircase after her. Sailor Mercury kept her eyes fastened on the screen, but for some reason the youma wasn't moving anymore, holding her position near the top of the stairs. Was their enemy preparing some kind of trap? She opened her mouth to warn her teammates...

But then, without warning, the red dot that had marked the youma signature quietly blinked out of existence.

* * *

On the grounds outside Furinkan, Jadeite's face took on a satisfied smile. "Finally," he said. "The worthless little traitor is no more."

He then turned to the DD Girls. "We have no further business here," he told them. "Let us depart."

* * *

The Senshi ran up the rest of the stairs, Sailor Mercury now in the lead. She didn't know what had happened up there, but she needed to see it with her own eyes. They soon reached the top of the stairs, ran out into the hallway... and stopped at the scene that confronted them.

Standing serenely in the center of the hallway, perched atop her cane, was a tiny, wizened old woman. In front of her, the floor was littered with small scraps of _rubber_, the remains of what could have been well over a half dozen balloons.

And there, in the middle of it all, looking down at herself with eyes so wide they threatened to burst from their sockets, sat a silver-haired—clearly human—girl.

Soaking wet.

* * *

Cologne watched, amused, as the Sailor Senshi tried to make sense of what they were seeing in the hallway. Their eyes bounced back and forth between her and the drenched Beneda, their puzzled expressions only growing.

They would doubtless have been even more puzzled had Beneda still been _naked_—as she had been when the power of Jusenkyo turned her from a youma to a human. But fortunately, Cologne had had the foresight to bring not just the water from the Spring of Drowned Girl, but also a simple cloth shift for the aftermath.

The ancient master had pulled it from her sleeves using the hidden weapons technique, and thrown it over the stunned Beneda just in time. The water it absorbed did cause the garment to cling to her body in some... interesting... ways, but overall it did a tolerable job of keeping her presentable.

Eventually, the dark-haired girl spoke up. "Excuse me..." she began, her voice hesitant. "But... what happened here?"

Cologne didn't recognize any of them visually... but the sixth sense that she had honed for over a century detected a slight, nagging familiarity about the speaker. _Could she be the one who visited me at the Nekohanten?_ the elder wondered. _If so, then their disguise magic is far more potent than I expected. Fascinating._

"Ah, you must be the Sailor Senshi, yes?" asked the old woman. "So nice to meet you. I came here searching for my great-granddaughter. She had come under the influence of some despicable villains, you see. I learned that they were planning something here, and in desperation, I decided to try and face them to win my Shampoo back."

"All by yourself?" asked the blonde Senshi, her eyes widening.

"At the time, I saw no other choice," Cologne replied. "But when I arrived here, I found that you had already defeated these 'Dark Lords'. So I turned my attention to finding my great-granddaughter, and the other poor captives such as this one."

The old woman gestured to Beneda as she spoke. "She was the last one; all the others have been safely rescued."

"But the youma!" interjected the blue-haired Senshi. "What happened to her?"

Cologne stroked her chin in a gesture of thought. "Ah, do you mean the creature that ran up the stairs ahead of you? You don't need to bother looking for her. She is quite dead."

"Dead?" echoed the red-clad Senshi. "How?"

"I killed her," was Cologne's simple answer. "She had stopped to attack this young girl here, but I was able to sneak up behind the monster and..." Cologne used the hidden weapons technique to pull out a long, nasty-looking knife from her sleeve. "...well. I may be old, but I am not altogether defenseless."

The Senshi's eyebrows went up a little, and Cologne continued on. "After she died, her body turned to dust, and then vaporized. Then you came up the stairs, and here we are."

"Wow..." said the blonde Senshi. "You're a really cool old lady!"

"Why thank you, child," replied Cologne. "I certainly couldn't have done it without your help. If I had tried to fight those two Dark Lords myself... the result would doubtless have been brief and one-sided."

"Well, that's our job, I guess..." The blonde Senshi sounded more than a little glum about this fact, however, and it piqued a bit of curiosity in Cologne. Why _had_ these girls taken up fighting the Dark Kingdom? How had they even learned of the struggle in the first place? And for that matter, where had they gotten their hands on such unexpectedly powerful magic?

Cologne had been so focused on the threat of Beryl's minions that she had not paid much attention to this little group. She was beginning to suspect that might have been a mistake.

"Your job?" she asked, probing lightly. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well—"

"Sailor Moon!" interrupted the cat. Then the small animal turned to Cologne. "I'm sorry. It's just that we really shouldn't be talking about such things."

"Aw, come on Luna..." protested Sailor Moon, trying to argue against the animal's caution. "I'm sure she isn't on the evil side! Hey, maybe she even knows something about finding the princess, since she's so old and wise and stuff!"

Cologne's eyes widened imperceptibly, her fingers clenching on her cane. No. No, it was _impossible_. And yet...

"Sailor Moon..." the ancient master breathed. "_Moon._ And that would make you..." She looked again at the colors the other two Senshi wore, looked with fresh eyes. "Mars? And Mercury?"

"...yes?" answered Sailor Mars uncertainly.

The fantastical nature of her suspicion staggered Cologne, but she could not stop putting the pieces together. Tasked with fighting the Dark Kingdom. Associated with the planets. Wielding magic of astonishing strength.

Searching for a princess...

Cologne threw her head back and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. _Serves me right,_ she thought. _Serves me right for thinking that it all might be hopeless. It seems that the deck may not be so stacked against us as I had thought. Not by a long shot._

The Senshi were looking worriedly back and forth at each other now. "Ummm..." ventured Sailor Moon at last. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, child," replied Cologne, wiping her eyes in the midst of a final chuckle. "Nothing at all. I was just laughing at an old fool. Pay it no mind."

Sailor Moon hesitated, then shrugged. "If you say so..."

The elder hopped in closer to the blonde Senshi, her ancient eyes gazing up into the girl's young ones. Examining, searching. Then Cologne smiled. "Well," she said, gesturing toward Beneda. "I had best get this young lady back to her home. I know she has many people anxious over her well-being. If you'll excuse me?"

The Senshi responded with a chorus of assents, and Cologne took the still-shell-shocked Beneda by the hand, leading her off down the stairs.

As the two of them were about to pass out of sight, the old master paused and glanced over her shoulder once more. "Search for your princess, Sailor Moon," she called back. "There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that, when the time is right... you will find her."

Then she turned and hopped away, while adding two more words so quietly that only she herself could hear them.

"...your majesty."

* * *

It wasn't just a matter of getting Beneda safely back to Doctor Tofu's, of course. Cologne also picked up a certain black piglet along the way, and there was still the matter of all the unconscious fighters buried in the ruins of the Furinkan gym. All of them needed to be quickly and surreptitiously excavated and brought to safer places as well.

Fortunately, Cologne was able to assign most of that work to younger Joketsuzoku warriors, and before too long the exhausted elder was at last able to sit back in her chair at the Nekohanten, close her eyes, and finally and completely relax.

_"Elder Ke Lun!"_

The fierce cry shattered the calm that had _almost_ managed to settle over her. Slowly, the old woman opened her eyes. She knew what this meant. This was the confrontation that she had been dreading—the confrontation she had known she would have to face from the moment she had chosen to spare Beneda.

Cologne turned, and saw, as expected, her sister Soap standing there. The other woman's face was twisted into a mask of comically exaggerated rage—a mask that utterly failed to hide the twinkle of mirth gleaming in her eyes.

"I am _deeply_ disappointed in you, Elder!" intoned Soap, wagging her finger in a shaming gesture. "Circumventing our requirements on how to deal with such creatures by using Jusenkyo to turn her into a human? As a very wise woman once said to me, that is an affront to everything the Joketsuzoku stand for! It is an excuse, designed to allow something our ancestors would never have permitted! One might _even_ say that it is a deliberate twisting of our sacred laws!"

Letting out a sigh, Cologne closed her eyes again. "I prefer..." she said, with the utmost dignity, "...to think of it as a creative interpretation."

At that, Soap let out a cackle and moved to sit next to Cologne. "You do realize," Soap said at length. "I'm never going to let you live this down."

"Yes, sister," Cologne replied, her eyes still closed. "I am very painfully aware of that fact."

"Still," Soap went on. "I was sure you'd make the right choice in the end."

"I wasn't," admitted Cologne. "I wasn't even sure what the right choice was. I knew it was far too dangerous to let her run around as a youma, detectable by the Dark Kingdom and the Senshi. But until I saw her hide Ranma and lead the Senshi away... I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with it. Whether I was going to use the water, or follow the spirit of the law as well as the letter."

"But you _were_ prepared for the possibility," prodded Soap. "You asked Liu Fa to bring the water in the first place. Even back then, you saw the potential that was in her."

Cologne snorted. "Don't read more into that than was there, sister," she said. "It was just a precaution. I had no real expectation that I would ever have need to use that water. If it had just been a question of the youma herself, I wouldn't even have bothered."

Then the old woman's expression softened a little, a smile crossing her face. "But... she did have my son-in-law pulling for her. And that boy does have an astonishing tendency to achieve the things he really sets his mind to."

Soap nodded. "He's a special one, isn't he?"

"Yes," was Cologne's simple reply. "He is."

"Good," said Soap. "Because we're going to need people like him in the times ahead. Do you really think we can win this, Cologne?"

Now it was Cologne's turn to laugh. "Oh yes," she said. "Yes, we _can_ win. I have learned a secret today, sister. A secret that will change the course of this war..."

* * *

Later that evening, the DD Girls stood in a small wooded park nestled in an out-of-the-way part of the city.

It had taken them a long time to find the place. Questioning the survivors of Jadeite's ill-fated attack group. Searching everywhere along the route their leader had taken. It had been a great deal of work, but it had finally born fruit. The five youma stood in a semi-circle around the pile of dust that had once been the Darkmistress.

There was an air of superstitious fear as they looked down at it. Any normal youma's dust would have dissipated into nothingness long before now, and the fact that this remained bore witness to the Darkmistress's unnatural powers. Every so often there would be a tiny discharge of crimson lightning from the dust to the ground, and a few of the DD Girls looked as though they expected their leader to rise back up from her ashes at any moment.

Then Modra took a step forward and kicked the pile of dust, scattering it. Cohesion lost, it finally vaporized, leaving behind dead, rotting grass everywhere it had spread.

And leaving behind one other thing as well—something the pile of dust had been hiding from view. The Darkmistress's headpiece.

Modra glanced back and forth, defying any of her teammates to challenge her, but none opposed the blonde youma. She then knelt down, picking up the talisman with both hands.

She ran her fingers along it, savoring its smooth, white material. She traced its shape, the outline of outstretched wings. She stared deep into the dark red gem at the center of the headpiece, her smile growing with each passing second.

Then, at last, she lifted the talisman up to her own forehead and fastened it there.

With that, she turned to face the other DD Girls, and issued her first orders as the new leader of the Black Section. "Come," she told them. "We have much to do."


	23. Wrapping Up

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** My very, _very_ deep thanks to EternallyLostRyouga, for his commission of a really sweet piece of fanart for this fic! There's a link to it in my profile, if you want to check it out. This is actually the piece that we were asking for suggestions from you guys on, back a few chapters ago, if you were wondering what happened to all that.

(It's quite a bit of egg on my face, though, because it didn't occur to me to mention—at the time I put the question out there—that the pricing scheme for these commissions scaled with the number of _characters_ in the pic. Combine that with my tendency toward really crowded scenes, and the price tag on some of the favorite suggestions shot up to levels I didn't feel comfortable asking ELR to sink that much on. Anyway, we went with a pic based on one of the other ones... but I really did botch that whole business, and I wanted to apologize for that.)

In any case, hope you enjoy the chapter! We're almost to the end of Part One—just the Epilogue to go after this!

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Wrapping Up

Jadeite limped through one of the Dark Kingdom's rocky tunnels, making his way toward Queen Beryl's throne room. His mind was racing, trying to think of what he would say when he arrived. He knew full well that his life would unquestionably hinge on it.

Worst was that he didn't even know all of what had happened. By the time he had made his way back to the location where his army had been fighting, he had found it deserted. No youma, no enemies, nothing but a wide swath of destruction torn into the city. The disappearance of the Dark Lords' army was easily explained by the destruction of their dimensional key... but had they really obliterated the entire youma attack force before that? Jadeite shuddered.

Either way, it was imperative that he report to Queen Beryl quickly, to explain the situation to her in a way that cast him in a favorable light. He planned out what he was going to tell her, trying to think of every possible contingency depending on how much she had already learned.

All too soon, the doors of the throne room came into view. The Dark General didn't feel ready, but this was hardly something one could be truly ready for. Steeling himself, he pushed the doors open and hobbled inside.

At his entrance, a low murmur coursed through the throng of youma that customarily surrounded Beryl's throne when she held court. Just as quickly it was cut off, leaving only silence. Then the sea of youma parted, opening a path from where Jadeite stood to where his ruler sat.

Nor was Queen Beryl alone. Kunzite, Nephrite and Zoisite were all standing near her, while Marceat, the youma subcommander of the attack force, knelt trembling at her feet. _So..._ Jadeite thought. _There were some survivors after all. This will be interesting._

"Jadeite." The Queen's voice was as cold as ice, and she fixed him with a look as hard as steel. "I understand that you have been busy, of late."

The Dark General swallowed, hard. How much did she know? He couldn't even begin to guess. In fact, given Marceat's presence, the Queen might know even more than he himself did, concerning the ultimate fate of the youma force. Still, he had to say something.

He drew in a deep breath, his ribs flaring in agony as he did. "Yes, your majesty," he replied. "I had been monitoring the new enemies that your Darkmistress had been fighting against, in case she needed any assistance from the Army. We discovered that they were about to initiate a ritual that would have given them access to an unbeatable army. Knowing that we had little time, we took immediate countermeasures."

"Countermeasures?" echoed Queen Beryl. She rose from her throne and began to walk toward Jadeite. "Youma charging through the streets of Tokyo in broad daylight? An entire _battalion_ of your forces completely annihilated? And you, one of my Generals, beaten to the point where you can barely stand?" She made a disgusted gesture in his direction. "_These_ were the results of your countermeasures?"

"Yes, your majesty." Jadeite kept his reply simple and unflinching. "Because they were all necessary for the victory we achieved. And because failure would have been immeasurably worse."

His gaze flickered briefly back and forth, but he did not see the Darkmistress anywhere, and he decided to take advantage of her absence. "Concerning the battalion that was lost, I had given it to the command of the Darkmistress while I went on with the DD Girls to defeat the enemy leaders at their stronghold. I cannot imagine what errors in leadership could have destroyed the entire force in the short time it took us achieve victory."

Beryl pursed her lips. "According to what I have been told, the Darkmistress left the battle herself not long after you did. Even now, I am unable to contact her."

"I see." Jadeite kept his expression neutral. "Well. I am certain she had her reasons for fleeing the battle like that, your majesty." The Dark General tried to put just the tiniest hint of emphasis on the world _fleeing_.

"Just as you, no doubt, have an explanation for your pathetic condition?" was Beryl's caustic reply.

"It was a fierce battle, your majesty," Jadeite responded. "I was pitted against the most powerful warriors these foes had to offer, and I emerged victorious over all of them... though not without some damage."

At that, Nephrite laughed. "He's right about how dangerous those enemies were," the brown-haired general put in. "After all... one of them managed to bloody even the 'invincible' Kunzite, didn't she? And when she was already exhausted, no less!"

Jadeite blinked, surprised by the unexpected support. But then he noticed the vindictive smirk that Nephrite was directing toward the other two generals, and he understood. Something had happened between the three of them, and right now Nephrite was more interested in striking against their positions than Jadeite's.

Zoisite's response was a seething, poisonous glower, while Kunzite contented himself with an impassive stare. The Queen ignored all of them, her attention never wavering from Jadeite as she regarded him with the dispassion of someone deciding whether to pull the legs off an insect. Then, at last, she spoke. "And these foes... they are now _completely_ defeated?"

Jadeite met his queen's gaze, looking her in the eye and putting every single shred of conviction and belief that he could muster into his words. "Yes, your majesty," he said. "There is not the slightest doubt in my mind that their threat has been completely and utterly eradicated."

"Mmm." Beryl regarded him for a few more seconds, then let out a soft hiss. "If so, then I suppose you _have_ fulfilled your duties, General. However ineptly. As for the loss of the battalion..."

The Queen made an offhanded gesture in Marceat's direction. Streams of fire burst from her fingertips, twisting through the air to converge on the cowering youma. The air was rent by tortured sounds that were almost recognizable as screams, as the youma was immolated by Beryl's magic before finally crumbling into dust.

"...that was clearly the fault of its commander at the time." Beryl's eyes narrowed. "And when she deigns to show her face, I will have to inquire of the Darkmistress why she was so negligent as to abandon it to such hands."

It was all Jadeite could do not to sag with relief. He was still alive. The Queen's wrath had settled on another target. And even better, it seemed as though the Darkmistress herself would soon be facing Beryl's displeasure. "Then, if your majesty permits, I will go and attend to my troops," he said. "I will no doubt need to restructure them, in light of the recent losses." And—more important—he needed desperately to get off his feet and back into a medical pod.

Beryl nodded, and the general turned to hobble out. He had almost reached the chamber's exit when the Queen's voice stopped him. "One warning, Jadeite."

Jadeite turned back around, and Beryl continued a note of threat in her voice. "Do not _ever_ come before me again in such a disgraceful state. No matter the opponent, my generals are not to be so easily humbled... and I will not tolerate such a poor display from you a second time. Do I make myself clear?"

His throat dry, Jadeite licked his lips. "Yes, your majesty," he replied. "Perfectly clear."

* * *

Hours later, Queen Beryl sat in her chambers, her face bent into a frown as she considered the events that had so recently transpired, and how much was still mysterious about them. This was not helped by the similarly mysterious absence of the head of her spy network and secret police.

Eventually, however, her brooding was interrupted as she detected a youma approaching the door to her room. Her eyes narrowed, but she spoke with a level voice. "Enter."

For a moment there was no response. Then the air in front of Beryl glowed, a form taking shape there. So this youma, whoever she was, had the power of short-range teleportation. Not nearly fast enough to be practical in a combat situation, but good for a flashy entrance. This unexpected arrival was trying to make an impression.

The glow resolved into the bowed and kneeling form of Modra, leader of the DD Girls and second-in-command to the Darkmistress. A smile that had something to do with satisfaction but nothing to do with good humor spread across Beryl's face. "Excellent. Perhaps you can shed some light onto your superior's ill-advised absence."

In reply, Modra raised her head, and Beryl saw that the youma's forehead was now adorned with the winged-outline headpiece that had belonged to the Darkmistress. The Queen raised an eyebrow. "Ah. I see that she has finally overstepped her abilities, then. Tell me, youma. Was it by the hand of those 'Dark Lords'... or did you see an opportunity?"

"The Dark Lords, your majesty," answered Modra. "She seems to have been killed before we defeated them."

Beryl's lip twisted. "Then they saved me the trouble," she said. "And you... you have succeeded where she failed. The Black Section is yours—for the time being."

"Your majesty is gracious," replied the youma, bowing her head once more.

The Queen rose from her seat, walking over to where Modra knelt. "You now bear a heavy responsibility," she said, reaching down to grasp the youma by the chin and twist her head up so that Beryl could look at the headpiece. "And you now bear an artifact of great power as well. I suggest you train yourself in its use, as the Darkmistress did."

"Of course, your majesty."

"Then if there is nothing else, you may proceed with your new duties," Beryl continued. "Jadeite's breach of our secrecy is most troubling. Direct your deep-cover sleeper agents in the human press and law enforcement to spread as much misinformation about it as possible, to keep the truth of the issue confused. Also, I will require a thorough investigation of this Nerima region as well, to ensure that this threat is truly past."

Modra bowed. "Yes, your majesty," she replied. "We will confirm the Dark Lords' defeat, just as we have already confirmed the death of the traitorous youma that was aiding them."

* * *

With a small murmur, Beneda slowly pulled herself up off her makeshift bedroll and into a sitting position, blinking sleep out of her eyes. After a few moments she got to her feet, stumbling a little bit due to the unfamiliar balance of her body, and then looked around.

Early morning light spilled through a nearby window into Doctor Tofu's clinic. Her eyes caught on that window, focusing on the faint reflection of her face that she could see in the glass. It was not a face she was accustomed to seeing there. Her skin was pale, not her usual green shade. Her hair was still silver, but soft, flowing, no longer metallic.

It was the face of a human.

Tentatively, she raised a hand to her cheek, her fingers touching, exploring, as she had done so often since her transformation. Even now, it still seemed so unreal, the stranger's face staring back at her. This body felt so much softer, weaker, more vulnerable than she was used to. She knew, of course, that she was ultimately far, far safer posing as a human, but she didn't _feel_ that to be the case.

Even so, her youma body was not completely lost. All it would take would be a splash of hot water to turn her back to her original form. While that fact might pose an added risk of discovery, Beneda knew that in her heart of hearts, she was relieved by the incomplete nature of the transformation. Her youma body was part of her identity, and knowing it still existed, in some sense, helped her keep a grip despite all the tumultuous happenings.

Stretching, the newly-human girl stepped around the still-sleeping forms of the Joketsuzoku warriors that she was sharing the room with. The army had scattered after their "dispelling", going to ground in various hiding places across the city. Many were hiding at the Nekohanten, of course, and Ukyo was also putting up quite a few at her restaurant, while others had simply disguised their tribal origin and procured lodging in various hotels. But many had also come here to the clinic—the wounded in particular.

The ones sleeping around her bedroll had only minor injuries: smaller cuts and gashes for the most part, which had been already tended to. She tiptoed around them, moving out into the hallway, and from there up the stairs to the room that held the more serious cases.

This room, too, was filled with cots and bedrolls, but the women on them were a much grimmer sight. They were all heavily bandaged, some of them even missing limbs. Doctor Tofu was sitting in the midst of them, much as he had been when Beneda had last seen him. The patients had all been stabilized, but he still watched over them, ready to respond to any complications that might arise.

She had to clear her throat before Tofu registered her presence—a clear sign of just how tired the man was. While Beneda had been helping with the less serious cases, he had been fighting non-stop for these women's survival all the previous day and into the night, using procedures and treatments that were far beyond anything he had yet taught her. He had still been doing so when he had ordered her to bed, and it looked as though he himself had not slept at all since then.

"Doctor Tofu, sir," she said. "You should really get some rest. I can at least take a shift and observe them for you."

The doctor frowned in thought. Then he nodded. "Yes, I think they are stable enough now that we can do that. I'll only need to be asleep for an hour, at the most. Be sure to wake me if there are any changes in their condition."

"Of course," was Beneda's immediate reply.

Tofu raised one hand to his mouth to cover a yawn, checked all of his patients one last time, and then headed for the door, giving Beneda a grateful pat on the shoulder as he left. The sometime-youma, for her part, sat herself down right where he had been sitting, focusing her eyes on her new charges with dutiful intensity.

* * *

"Unbelievable..." murmured Loofah, stroking her chin in thought. "So the light of the Moon Kingdom has not been completely extinguished, as we had all assumed."

The four members of the Joketsuzoku council were seated once more in one of the upper rooms of the Nekohanten, with Altine's glowing image again projected into the air at the center of the table they were gathered around. All the elders were looking at the hologram, digesting the implications of what it had just confirmed.

"That seems to be the case," agreed Cologne. "Everything fits. The names they bear, the powers they display, their appearance to counter the Dark Kingdom..."

"And you believe that this 'Sailor Moon' is herself the Princess?" pressed Loofah.

"You heard yourself what Honored Altine told us," Cologne replied, shrugging. "The girl's very name aside, the tiara she wields is a perfect match for an ancestral weapon of the Moon Kingdom, traditionally bestowed upon the heir to the throne. The conclusion seems obvious."

Soap slammed her fist into the table. "This is _exactly_ what we need!" she said, her eyes gleaming. She had been working all night, treating the wounds of the Joketsuzoku warriors who had not been sent to Doctor Tofu's, and this was the first opportunity she'd had to safely leave for Council business. But any weariness she might have felt had been burned away by the news Cologne had brought them.

"We were worried about Kunzite?" she went on. "Against the might of House Serenity, he'd fare no better than a two-bit conjurer! Beryl? She would fall just as easily! Even _Metallia herself_ would not be out of reach!"

"Are you certain of that?" asked Loofah. "I know what we have learned from Honored Altine... but if this child is of Serenity's line, we have seen little of the power one would expect. From what Ke Lun says, her son-in-law alone held the girl off without much trouble."

"That is because she has yet to find herself," replied Cologne. "At present, she does not even understand who she is—or the weight of the birthright that she bears."

"Then she will have to learn it, if she is to be of any use to us," rejoined Loofah. "Against the enemy we face, nothing less will do."

"Indeed." The Matriarch now entered the conversation, causing all heads to turn toward her. "The girl must be allowed to grow into her power—if she is, in fact, who we suspect her to be. Battle will draw it out of her... and she will doubtless face many battles in the days to come."

The ancient woman swept her gaze across the other elders. "For our part, we must recover our own strength. This clash has left us weakened. We must heal our wounded and re-train our tribe to face this threat. When the time comes, and the Princess is ready to confront her destiny, we must also be ready to support her."

* * *

A few days later, Eludin glanced back and forth as she walked down the sidewalk of the human city. As a recent recruit to the Black Section, this Nerima investigation was the Inquisitor's first mission into the human world, and the youma was determined to carry it out to perfection.

Her disguise was in place: a tall, curvaceous woman dressed in a tight brown suit. She wore the human form with the ease of long practice, having trained with it extensively in anticipation of one day getting such a chance. She walked with confident, purposeful strides, while in her hand she carried a human-style notebook. It was useful for jotting down information on anything she learned in a way that fit with her cover identity of Suzuki Sumiko, freelance journalist.

Already she had "interviewed" more than a dozen people, trying to surreptitiously gather information on the foes that the Dark Kingdom had so recently fought. The results had so far been underwhelming. She had yet to find anyone who had met the enemies in person, and had gotten only fragmented, contradictory hearsay about the recent battle.

Up ahead, she saw two young male humans walking down the sidewalk toward her, of about school age. She hurried in their direction. The Dark Lords had been posing as students themselves during their stay in this world, which meant that these two might prove particularly useful to question.

"Excuse me?" Both of them looked up from their conversation at her words, their eyebrows going up a little when they saw who was addressing them. To aid in getting information, Elidun had specifically designed her disguise form to target the sexual impulses of human males, and the reaction of the two teenagers suggested that her research had not misled her. "My name is Suzuki Sumiko, and I'm doing a piece for the Daily Yomiuri on the... altercation that took place near here a few days ago. Do you two know anything about what happened?"

"Oh, sure!" replied one of the boys, the one with tousled, light brown hair. "We know about that. Some kind of army of monster women, a big battle or something. Our school got wrecked too, and we had to cancel classes while it's getting repaired."

"Well, _I_ heard the whole thing was blown way out of proportion," added the other boy, his hair black, and a bit straighter. "Just a bunch of marital artists dressing up and going on a crazy vandalism spree. We see that kind of thing all the time around here."

"No, I don't buy it," replied the first boy. "Seriously, Daisuke. Everyone I've talked to who actually saw it for themselves says there were _way_ too many of them for it to be anything like that. And we've never had _that_ much damage from a martial arts fight before, not even close!"

Daisuke made an unconvinced noise. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there? Besides, Hiroshi, you really think a whole army of monsters just popping up right in the middle of Tokyo is any more believable? Not to mention that nobody even found any bodies when they arrived to check out this 'war' of yours."

"That's not proof!" Hiroshi shot back. "I heard that those kind of monsters just turn to dust when they die!"

The other boy rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course. How convenient. And next you'll be trying to tell me again how the Sailor Senshi are real too."

"They _are!_"

Sensing that this would go on for a while if she let it, Eludin broke into their argument, trying to steer the conversation back in the direction she wanted it to go. "Well, regardless of whether it was real or fake, I'd like to know more about the people involved. Do you know anything about a certain Saotome Ranma?"

Both of the humans looked surprised at the name. "Ranma?" Hiroshi asked. "Sure, we know him. Heh, figures that he'd be mixed up in this somehow."

The disguised youma suppressed a smile. Perfect! "Really?" she asked, with outward calm. "Why would you say that?"

"Oh, he's always getting involved with weird stuff like that," Hiroshi volunteered. "Big battles, secret techniques, magic items, that kind of thing. Happens all the time."

"Yes, I see..." Eludin jotted several notes down in her notebook. Clearly the Dark Lords had spent their time here trying to obtain the sorts of artifacts that had almost let them bring through their army to this world. Fortunate that the Dark Kingdom had learned of their aims in time. "How long have you known him?"

"Not long, I guess," answered Daisuke. "He just showed up out of nowhere one day in class. He'd been off in China or something before that, but then he moved here, into the Tendo place."

"Mmm, yes..." murmured the youma, writing down some more notes. "The Tendo family..."

* * *

About a half-hour later, Eludin stood outside the outer wall surrounding the Tendo compound. She had always intended to investigate here, one of the first places they had fought the Dark Lords, and after talking with the two boys, she had made her way here. She hadn't gotten anything further out of them; it had become obvious during their conversation that they had only been familiar with the innocent façade of this Ranma's cover identity, and were completely ignorant of his darker true motives.

But here... by all accounts this had been one of their main centers of operations, the place where the Darkmistress had first fought them. If there was any place to check, this would be it.

From behind the outer wall, Eludin could hear hammering, people moving around, the sounds of repairs being performed, doubtless related to the damage from the Darkmistress's attack. She walked up to the gate and knocked as loudly as she could. For a long while there was no response, and the youma began to suspect that her knock had been swallowed up by the noises inside.

She raised her hand to knock again, but just before she could, the door opened to reveal a short-haired young girl of about the same age as the boys she had interrogated earlier. "Hello!" she said pleasantly. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, in fact," replied the youma. "My name is Suzuki Sumiko, and I'm doing a piece for the Daily Yomiuri. Do you know anything about the strange events that took place a few days ago?"

At the question, the girl's face bent into a troubled frown, and she raised one hand to her forehead, as though experiencing a sudden headache. "I..." she began, then paused. "That's... I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me. It's just... strange. People have been talking about what happened then, but I don't remember _anything_ about that day. It's all just... a blank."

Eludin's eyes lit up. Now this was more like it! "Blank, you say?" she asked, trying not to let her excitement show through.

"I know, I know, it sounds like I'm crazy," the girl said, starting to wring her hands a little. "But I'm not, I swear!"

"Of course not," soothed the Inquisitor, eager to see what else she could coax out. "Do you remember anything from before that? Anything about someone named Ranma?"

"Just... bits and pieces..." the girl said, shaking her head as though trying to clear it. "It's all so... so blurred over the past few months, right up until a few days ago, when everything suddenly became clear again. There... there _was_ someone called Ranma, I think. He was... my fiancé? But... why would I have a fiancé? I didn't even _know_ him before then!"

"I see, I see..." said the youma, furiously writing the information down in her notebook. "Please, tell me more..."

* * *

When she finally left the Tendo home, Eludin was wearing a satisfied smile on her face. It was obvious what had happened here: the Dark Lords had obtained a place to operate from in this area by bewitching this family and passing Ranma off as the girl's lover. A clever plan indeed. But now the spell was broken as a result of the caster's removal from this dimension.

As she walked away down the sidewalk, her path crossed with yet another human, going in the opposite direction. It was another female, this one wearing her hair done up in a pigtail. Next to her trotted a small black animal of the human world—a "piglet", Eludin believed it was called. Figuring the girl to be as likely a source as any, the youma moved toward them as well.

"Excuse me," she said as she approached. "My name is Suzuki Sumiko, and I'm doing a piece for the Daily Yomiuri. Do you happen to know anything about the altercation that took place a few days ago?"

"You mean the big fight?" The girl and piglet exchanged glances, then looked back at the disguised youma. "Oh no, we definitely don't know anything about that! We've heard what everyone's been saying, of course, but we didn't actually see anything for ourselves. 'Cause, you know, we weren't anywhere near the place when it happened!"

"I see..." Yet another dead end. Unfortunate, but hardly unexpected. Asking random passersby was definitely a long shot, not likely to bring her any closer to an understanding of the enigmatic Dark Lords and what their true nature had been. She tried one last question, however. "Well, are you at all familiar with a Saotome Ranma?"

"Saotome Ranma?" asked the pigtailed girl, scratching the back of her head. "Well, I guess I kind of know him. I mean, I'm in the same class as he is, for one thing. And of course, _everyone_ around the school knows how amazing he is at martial arts. Plus there's how good-looking he is, and not to mention—_ow!_" The piglet had, for some reason, chosen that moment to bite her in the ankle, cutting off the stream of praise.

The girl glared down at her pet, who glared right back up at her. Then the human turned back to Eludin. "Anyway, it's kind of strange, now that you mention it. No one's seen or heard anything from him since the big fight you were asking about. He just seems to have dropped off the face of the earth."

Eludin nodded resignedly. The same story she had heard everywhere else. She was beginning to suspect that this was as close as she was ever going to get to the truth of these foes. If so, they would go down in the annals of the Dark Kingdom as inexplicable bogeymen, terrifying figures that had appeared out of nowhere, and come within a hair's breadth of destroying them all.

* * *

"...and that was all I could determine with any degree of certainty. The Dark Lords are clearly gone, all their enchantments now broken and void. But beyond that, the information is fragmented and contradictory. For instance, some people actually claim that, far from being allies, this Ranma and Ryouga were bitter _enemies_, but this seems difficult to believe given our own experiences with them. Perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding of those watching, or else part of their cover."

Jadeite watched as Eludin described her findings, trying to ignore the constant pain from his body. The healing magic was having an effect, but it would be quite some time before he was at full strength again. What made it even worse was that all this information he was suffering to hear could hardly be trusted. As co-conspirators, Modra had asked him to attend Eludin's "official" debriefing... but she had doubtless made certain beforehand that the report would not contain anything she did not want him to know.

The Inquisitor flipped through her notebook some more. "Interestingly enough, there _was_ one of his fellow students who was actually perceptive enough to realize that this Ranma was, in fact, an evil sorcerer. He didn't seem to have had much success in convincing anyone else of the truth, though."

"Fascinating," Jadeite said through gritted teeth, hoping to hurry this farce along. "At any rate, since your investigation has found nothing that would indicate the Dark Lords to still be a danger, we can move on to other, more pressing matters."

Eludin blinked. "Um, sir..." she began tentatively, fearful of him even though she was technically under Modra's command, not his. "I wouldn't say that my investigation is anywhere near complete at this point. Today was just a preliminary survey of the area; there's still quite a bit more detail that I could—"

"Perhaps we did not make ourselves clear," intoned Modra, leaning in closer. "Your investigation has. Found. _Nothing._ The battle we fought has been confirmed as a glorious, complete victory for the Dark Kingdom, due to the heroic efforts of myself and General Jadeite, and you are satisfied that no more attention needs to be paid to it."

The lower-ranking youma licked her lips and bowed deeply. "I understand, mistress. Yes, that is exactly my opinion. Please forgive my momentary foolishness."

A dismissive gesture was Modra's only reply, and Eludin scuttled away. Modra waited until she was gone, then turned to Jadeite. "And with that, we close the book on the Nerima encounter. There is no need for any deeper inquiry that might reveal... problematic details. Particularly about the final battle, and the role of the Senshi in it."

The Dark General nodded. "A glorious victory for us, as you said. And as promised, you will have the full support of my army division in consolidating your new position as the head of the Black Section."

"You are too kind, General," the youma purred. "This arrangement will work out _so_ much better for both of us than the pointless antagonism that my predecessor held toward you. I look forward to our future together."

"As do I," responded Jadeite. It was an utter lie. He didn't like the idea of leaving anyone else alive who knew the truth about what had actually happened at that school, and he doubted that Modra felt any better about his continued survival. But neither of them could expose the other without revealing themselves, and so they were in stalemate for the moment.

_I must think of a way to kill her without arousing suspicion,_ thought Jadeite. But that was a problem for another day. This youma was hardly a true threat to one such as him, and now that he had ensured that the final report to Queen Beryl would be an altogether favorable one he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his healing pod, secure in the knowledge that the Dark Lords, at least, had been dealt with.

* * *

"The Saotome Secret Technique," Ranma said, his voice taking on a solemn, lecturing tone, "is founded on the tenets of 'motion', 'contemplation', and 'opposition'."

"Or in other words," interjected Akane, "running away to buy yourself time to think about how to attack your enemy."

The pigtailed fighter rolled his eyes, ignoring the commentary from the peanut gallery. Around him, the main room of the Nekohanten was packed with Joketsuzoku warriors sitting and standing everywhere, many of them wearing slings, bandages and other medical aids. Many of them were looking curiously at Ranma, as the young warrior held forth on the events of the recent battle.

Most of their small defensive force was there as well: Mousse and Ryogua were sitting at one of the tables, while Akane and Beneda—in her human form—were standing behind Ranma's chair. Shampoo and Ukyo were seated at his feet. They were all there in response to a summons from Cologne, though the old woman had yet to show her face.

"Anyway, the problem with fighting the Dark Kingdom is that they're too powerful for us to hit head-on," Ranma continued. "But at the same time, they had our number. We'd already picked a head-on fight with them, and they weren't going to stop coming until they'd taken us down. We needed to change the rules, to make the fight happen on _our_ terms."

Then Ranma leaned back in his chair, spreading his arms out wide. "So we gave 'em what they wanted to see. Everyone thought that we were some kind of Dark Lords? Well, we could make that _work_ for us."

"So what now, Saotome?" asked Mousse. "We've thrown them off our trail, all right. But they're still out there. What's our next move?"

"Well..." hedged Ranma. "I'm still working on that part. 'Contemplation', remember? I think the Senshi have the right idea, though. If you have some way of hiding your real identity you can do all kinds of hit-and-run stuff without an army chasing you down afterward."

The pigtailed boy got to his feet, pacing thoughtfully back and forth as best he could in the limited space available. Then he looked up. "We wait a while, of course. Let the heat die down. Make sure they don't connect it back to what happened here. And we'll need disguises."

Ryogua let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, this I have to see. What, you're planning to put on a mask and dress in a tuxedo too?"

"Hell no." Ranma shuddered, then added under his breath: "Besides, who knows what ideas Pop and Mr. Tendo would start to get if I put one of those on." Then he spoke up again. "No, I'm thinking... _ninja_ masks! We put those on, and whenever the Dark Kingdom tries to sneak out and do one of their energy-draining things, we find 'em and stomp down. Hard."

"Not a bad plan, son-in-law." Cologne's voice came from off to the side, causing everyone in the room to turn and look at her. "Not a bad plan at all. However, there are other considerations at work here, hence why I called you all here. For the present, we must allow the Sailor Senshi to fight this battle themselves."

A startled murmur ran through the room at that statement. Ranma frowned. "What? _Why?_"

"Because doing so is their duty, their destiny... and most important of all, their crucible. It must form them into something far greater than what they are today, if we are to have any hope of ultimate victory." Cologne looked Ranma straight in the eye. "Make no mistake, son-in-law. The fate of this world will one day rest in their hands. The only question is whether they will be ready to hold it."

* * *

"...but I couldn't land a hit on her, and then she just blasted me to the ground. I was sure I was done for then. She was talking to me about how she was going to torture me to death... but right before she started, Mousse showed up and attacked her!"

Beneda looked around as she spoke, at Ukyo, Shampoo, and a handful of Joketsuzoku warriors she didn't recognize, all of whom were listening to her recount the final battle against the Darkmistress. The room had broken up into smaller conversations like this one after Ranma and Cologne had finally finished arguing over the best course of action regarding the Senshi and the Dark Kingdom. Ranma himself was off leaning against one of the walls, his face looking troubled and deep in thought.

The sometime-youma continued her tale, trying to do the fight as much justice as she could. Soon enough, she was approaching the climax. "...and they were both standing there, facing each other. The Darkmistress had made a sword out of her lightning, but Mousse had pulled out a sword of his own. It was an _amazing_ weapon, on a different level of workmanship from any sword I'd ever seen."

Overhearing this, Ranma glanced up, suddenly interested. "Hey, hold on a sec," he said. "Tell me more about this sword. I don't remember him using anything like that on _me_ when we fought." In fact, the pigtailed boy seemed almost _insulted_ that Mousse hadn't used such a deadly weapon against him.

"Yes, Shampoo want know more also," added the Chinese girl, sounding somewhat puzzled. "Shampoo not remember any sword like that from Mousse either."

As one, all their heads turned to look across the room, to where the hidden weapons master was standing. Beneda noticed that he had gone completely rigid, and was looking back and forth with a trapped look in his eyes. But he coughed, then reached into his sleeves. "It's not all that special," he said, pulling a sword out and tossing it through the air to Ranma. "Take a look at it, if you want."

Ranma caught the weapon and gave it a few experimental swings and twirls, then held it in front of himself and ran his fingers along the blade. "Well... it's _all right_, I guess..." he said, sounding a little disappointed. "Not really anything to write home about, though." Beneda blinked, momentarily at a loss for how to reply.

Because the sword Mousse had thrown to Ranma _wasn't_ the sword he had used to kill the Darkmistress.

She turned to look at him, but the hidden weapons master was not meeting her gaze. Beneda hesistated... but whatever his secret was, she had only learned of it by his saving her life. "I... uh... really?" she said, turning back to Ranma. "Well, I don't know that much about swords, of course. It definitely seemed impressive to me, though."

"Ah well." Ranma tossed the sword back to Mousse, who slid it back up his sleeve. Now the hidden weapons master did meet Beneda's gaze, and she could see fervent gratitude in his eyes.

* * *

Wringing his hands, Gosunkugi paced back and forth in his room, surrounded by his latest batch of voodoo dolls. He couldn't believe how wrong things had gone—although he had to admit, things could also have gone far worse.

The most distressing complication, of course, had been Akane unexpectedly returning to Furinkan to help Ranma. She wasn't supposed to have been anywhere _near_ his booby trap when it had gone off. Fortunately, she had escaped without any serious harm. Unfortunately, so had Saotome, along with the evil monster he was harboring.

And now the youma had a disguise, one that had fooled even the Senshi. In the end, all his efforts had accomplished exactly nothing. He was right back where he had started.

Still... Gosunkigi paused in thought. Being back where he started meant he still had all the same opportunities as well. The Senshi were still out there, of course, and Ranma still didn't know it had been him who had led them here to begin with. His youma might be hidden from them _now_... but he could reveal the truth to them once more, just as he had done then.

A smile slowly spread across the pale boy's face, and he immediately began planning out exactly what he would tell the magical warriors. It had to be just right, to best convince them of the evil that still lurked in Nerima!

* * *

Late that night, Mousse sat alone on the roof of the Nekohanten, brooding as he looked out across the darkened city. He should have been resting, recovering from the wounds he had sustained in the recent battle... but he had been having difficulty sleeping, of late.

_After all this time, why did I use that sword now?_ he wondered, knowing that he would have no better answer than any of the previous times he had asked himself the question. _It seemed so right at the time. A truly evil foe, an enemy I was absolutely determined to kill at any cost. And it is still by far the most potent weapon in my arsenal. Was that the reason?_

_Or was it because I thought using that sword to save someone else would somehow make up for what I did that night three years ago?_

Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out a sword. It was a Chinese _jian_ blade—this time the real sword he had used at the end of his fight. He ran his palm down the white sheath, then grabbed hold of it and began to draw the blade. It pulled free so easily, the steel gleaming in the moonlight, its edge still razor-sharp beyond any of his other blades.

And there, staring back at him, was a single Chinese character, engraved into the weapon's hilt. The symbol for the number "four".

He slammed the blade back into its sheath, and shoved it back up his sleeves in the blink of an eye, removing it from sight. Then he bent over, burying his head in his hands as his breath shuddered in and out.

* * *

Step by step, Luna walked down the sidewalk alongside Ami, Rei and Usagi. Each step sent a jolt of pain ricocheting around in her tiny skull, and she mumbled a few choice words under her breath that she hoped none of the girls overheard.

Her battle against that pig had been grueling enough on the whole, but the animal just had to finish it off by attacking her crescent mark. Just having the symbol covered up by a pair of band-aids had reduced her to a speechless state before she had met Usagi and the blonde girl had removed them. Having the spot bashed repeatedly had given her a _splitting_ headache, one that she knew from experience would plague her for days to come.

Biting back a sigh, she continued to walk, and eventually their destination came into view. "You girls had better transform," she advised them. "He only knows you in your Senshi forms, and it would be best if he didn't connect them to your alternate identities."

The three girls nodded, and they proceeded to find an out-of-the-way spot in an alley where they could invoke their transformation magic without being seen. A few seconds later, Sailor Moon, Sailor Mars and Sailor Mercury emerged, and made a beeline for the house of Gosunkugi Hikaru.

They found him in the same place as last time: in his room. The young man didn't seem to get out all that much. Sailor Mars rapped on his window, causing him to spin around. His eyes lit up eagerly, and he opened the window to usher them inside as fast as he could.

"You came back!" the pale boy exclaimed. "This is perfect! I was just trying to think of how best to get in contact with you again!"

"Yes, we wanted to check up on you, and make sure you were all right," replied Luna. "I saw you run out of Furinkan, but then you disappeared."

"You... saw me?" asked Gosunkugi, fumbling a little. "Er. Yes, well... That was... what I wanted to talk to you about! You see, I snuck into the school when I heard that Ranma had taken it over, to see if there was any way I could help defeat him!"

"That was very dangerous," said Sailor Mercury, a note of reproach in her voice. "If they'd found you all on your own, you wouldn't have had any way of defending yourself!"

"Sailor Mercury is right," agreed Luna. "You could have very easily gotten yourself killed doing that. And not just by Ranma and his minions either. If Jadeite hadn't been in so much pain when you hit him, he probably would have killed you himself for getting in his way."

Gosunkugi puffed out his chest a little. "I don't mind risking my life against the likes of Ranma if it means helping the Sailor Senshi," he declared. "Anyway, you have to listen to what I learned in there, about what _actually_ happened when you broke that bowl! You see—"

But then he paused, as something belatedly sank in. "Wait a minute... What were you just saying about... _Jadeite?_"

"Jadeite," Luna repeated. "He was the one you crashed into when you were running out of the school. Don't you remember it?"

"I... I... I..." Gosunkugi spluttered, his eyes bulging with barely-concealed terror. "I remember hitting _someone_, but... but that was... I hit _Jadeite?_ But he's one of the generals of the whole youma army!"

Sailor Mercury frowned. "That's right," she said. "How did you know that?"

"From Bene—" The boy shook his head. "I mean... from what I overheard them talking about in Furinkan when I was spying on them. He was... one of the main people they were worried about."

Sailor Moon nodded. "Yeah, he's really tough!" she said. "When I fought him once at the radio station, he was so strong I couldn't even do a thing against him! I guess you're lucky he was already so injured when you clobbered him."

Gosunkugi swallowed hard several times, before finally managing to speak in a weak voice. "When... when I hit him... he wasn't, uh... _too_ badly hurt... was he?"

Luna thought back to the event in question. "In all honesty," she said. "I can't really think of a time I've ever seen another living being in the kind of agony he was in. Between all the broken bones and the other injuries he'd sustained, I can't even imagine the kind of pain that must have put him through."

Then the moon cat glanced over at the boy, who looked as though he were mere seconds away from becoming violently ill all over the carpet. "Oh, but don't worry about him coming after you," she said. "Since you were coming out of the school when you hit him, he probably just thinks you were one of Ranma's men. And since they're all gone now, he won't be looking for you either." She paused. "Anyway, you said you had something to tell us about—"

_"Completely destroyed!"_ shouted Gosunkugi, with a voice that made everyone in the room jump. "When you broke the bowl... you... you probably thought that it just banished the Dark Lords back to their home dimension, but what _actually_ happened is that they were all obliterated! Based on... um... what I saw of their ritual, there's no way they could have survived the spell failing. Being sent back without their artifact would rip them into tiny, _tiny_ pieces, and kill them so dead that they couldn't ever, ever, _ever_ possibly come back!"

The Senshi all blinked. "I... see..." said Sailor Mercury tactfully. "Well... thank you for passing that information along."

Gosunkugi nodded in reply. It was all he could manage, as he held his head between his knees and hyperventilated.

* * *

Soon the Sailor Senshi left, leaving Gosunkugi alone in his room. The second the girls were out of sight, he dashed over to his closet, swung the door open and shut himself inside. There he sat, curled up into a little ball, eyes twitching left and right as he tried to watch every shadow simultaneously.

What had he done? He had grievously hurt one of the Dark Generals, an evil sorcerer of such arcane might that even the _Sailor Senshi_ had admitted being unable to stop him! Worse, that sorcerer was also in command of an entire army of vicious demons!

If there was one thing that Gosunkugi was certain of, it was that Jadeite could never, _ever_ be given the slightest reason to suspect that the Dark Lords were still alive. Exposing Ranma's subterfuge was absolutely out of the question. If it got back to the General that the Senshi were fighting in Nerima again...

No, Ranma and his youma would have to be left alone. After all, everyone deserved a chance, didn't they? Who was to say, really, that even an evil creature like her couldn't still turn over a new leaf if she wanted to? It was certainly possible!

And so—congratulating himself on his magnanimous decision—Gosunkugi proceeded to spend the rest to the day cowering in that closet.

* * *

Now back in their civilian forms, the Sailor Senshi walked along, conversing as they did so. "And you say this okonomiyaki restaurant is really _that_ good?" asked Rei skeptically.

"Yep!" responded Usagi with an enthusiastic nod. "It's gotta be the best okonomiyaki I've ever tasted! Besides, the owner of the place is one of the ones that that Gosunkugi guy said was connected with Ranma somehow, and I want to make sure she's okay too."

Brooking no further dissent, the blonde girl hurried onward toward this "Ucchan's" place, the rest of the team following in her wake with varying degrees of enthusiasm. By the time they got there Usagi was almost drooling with anticipation. Even Ami had to admit that she was feeling quite puckish after all the walking around they had been doing, and she was looking forward to sampling the restaurant's wares herself.

"Welcome to Ucchan's!" was the exclamation that greeted them as they walked in. A girl looked up from behind the grill. Her eyes focused on Usagi, and a smile brightened her features. "Oh, hello again Usami!"

A puzzled expression crossed Usagi's face, but then her eyes widened in remembrance. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, right, Usami. Yeah, that's me!" Ami coughed discretely, while Rei favored the blonde girl with a flat stare.

"Well, come right in, all of you!" said the girl behind the grill, cheerfully bulldozing past any awkwardness. "Have a seat and give me your order. I'll have it ready for you in a flash."

The three girls did just that, taking seats around the grill and telling Ukyo what they wanted. "So, are you still looking for Ranma, kiddo?" the chef asked Usagi, after she had begun to prepare the food. "It's strange, actually. No one around here has seen him since the big ruckus a few days ago."

"Really?" asked Rei, her face a picture of innocence.

Ukyo nodded. "Yes. And that's not the only odd thing that's happened either. Ever since then it's like... my mind is clearer, somehow. Like waking up from a dream." She raised one hand to her forehead, as though fighting off a lingering headache. "I think I was even having blank spots... whole days when I couldn't remember anything... but I never even thought of that as strange until just recently."

The incognito Senshi all exchanged quick glances. So, Ranma _had_ been affecting her mind as they had suspected. Who knew how many others had been similarly enslaved to his diabolical power? Ami suppressed a shudder at the thought of how close they had all come to being conquered by such a despot.

"Well, I'm just happy you're all right now," broke in Usagi. "You know... I, uh, heard that Sailor Senshi were part of all the battles and stuff that were going on. Probably it was them that straightened everything out!"

The older girl laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised," she said, as she took the finished meals off the grill and gave them to the girls. Ami raised the food to her lips, the mouth-watering smell hitting her first. She took a bite, and immediately realized that Usagi's description of the taste had been no exaggeration.

The girls began to devour their food in earnest, while Ukyo looked on with a satisfied smile. "Either way," the chef continued. "Here's to the Sailor Senshi! Wherever they are."

* * *

Kuno Tatewaki was rarely at a loss for words, but here, standing just outside the closed door to his sister's room, he found himself without anything he could say. He raised his hand to knock, then lowered it again. This was not a situation he had ever expected to find himself in, but knowing what he now knew, he had no other choice.

At length, he took a deep breath and simply opened the door. The room inside was dark, the only light slanting in through the doorway from the hall outside. Even in the dim lighting, however, Kuno could see that the room was in shambles. Kodachi's belongings had been thrown everywhere, as though a whirlwind had struck, and the walls bore long scars where she had shredded them with her ribbon. Kodachi herself could only barely be seen, a small silhouette curled up in a ball on the other side of her bed.

Kuno stepped into the room, walking around the bed to where he could see her more clearly. What he found did not surprise him. She was rocking back and forth slightly, cradling a book tight to her chest. With her body wrapped around it he could not see the title, but he nevertheless knew which one it was. A well-worn children's book that he was very familiar with as well.

He stood over her for a moment, his sister showing no recognition of his presence. Then he lowered himself down, sitting beside her. "Saotome's new acquaintance told me about your battle," he said at length. "About the enemy you were fighting... and about what the demon did to you."

Kodachi's body went rigid at the words, but she did not look up. Her brother waited a moment for a response that did not come, then continued. "The real her would _never_ have done anything like that to you. You know this. She... loved you very much." He looked away, then continued in an even quieter tone. "She loved all of us."

Still Kodachi made no reply. For a long, long time they simply sat there, together in the darkness, in the silence. Then, at last, Kuno rose to leave, wondering whether his words had accomplished anything in the slightest.

"Brother..." The word was barely above a whisper, but it stopped Kuno in his tracks. He looked back down, to see that Kodachi was now looking up at him. "...thank you."

The kendoist shuffled his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. But he had to say something in reply. "Will you be all right?" he asked.

Kodachi laughed. It was a pale, weak, tear-stained shadow of her usual laugh—but it was a laugh nonetheless. "Of course," she told him, rubbing an arm across her eyes. "I will be fine. I simply need to convince my darling Ranma to abandon that Tendo girl, and prove to him my undying love."

Her grip on her mother's storybook tightened, as she clutched it closer to her chest, her next whispered words so quiet as to be barely audible.

"And then we will live happily ever after..."

* * *

Beneda leaned back in her chair, looking out the window of Doctor Tofu's clinic into the night sky. "Hard to believe it's all over," she murmured, half to herself, and half directed over to where Ranma, Ryouga and Akane were sitting nearby. "We actually pulled it off."

With the completion of Ranma's plan everyone's attention had turned to resting and recovery from what they had gone through. Repairs to the Tendo home were proceeding apace, as well as to the school they had so unceremoniously "borrowed".

Everyone was also recovering on the personal side as well. Ryouga was up and around again, showing little sign anymore of being hindered by his wounds. The other fighters had healed up as well, though some of the cuts Zoisite had given Mousse had gotten infected by the boy's subsequent dip in the sewer. Doctor Tofu was currently treating him for that as well.

Aside from Mousse, Shampoo and Cologne, though, the Joketsuzoku army had mostly pulled out of Nerima for the time being, heading back to China to heal, train and prepare away from Dark Kingdom eyes. Loofah had promised that they would inflict an even greater toll on their enemies when it next came time to match their strengths.

And so, with the tides of war receding temporarily on all fronts, she was left here. Alive, against all odds. And with a new life ahead of her. A life as a human.

She still found that thought unbelievably surreal.

"So..." she began, gesturing vaguely with her—human—hand. "When you're not fighting against ancient empires from before your civilization's recorded history... what is it you humans _do_?"

Ranma, Ryouga and Akane traded glances between themselves. "Well," Akane began. "There's school, of course. And eventually a job. And there's after-school clubs, and hobbies, and doing things with friends. And then there's dating, if you have a boyfriend..." Her voice trailed off, and she suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable. So did both Ranma and Ryouga, now that Beneda noticed.

"There's, uh, martial arts too!" added Ranma, putting that topic behind them as quickly as he could. "We've got all kinds of styles around here you could check out if you wanted. Like Martial Arts Tea Ceremony, or Martial Arts Figure Skating, or Martial Arts Takeout Delivery. I even heard that the Principal is trying to get the guys from the Martial Arts Building Repair dojo to help out with the school."

"In the end, it's different for everybody," Ryouga concluded. "The world has all kinds of things a person can experience. We'll show you."

Beneda shook her head in wonderment at the bewildering possibilities spread out before her. "I... I would like to find a place. A _role_ here. Somewhere I can fit into things, like I did before."

"Well, I may be able to assist you with that," came a voice from off to the side.

The four of them turned around, to see Doctor Tofu enter the room. "This is just one possibility for you to consider," he said. "But it's one I've been giving a great deal of thought to for the past few days. I truly believe that you possess a talent for the medical disciplines, Beneda. If it's something that you desire... I would be willing to take you on as my apprentice."

The other three humans' eyes widened, and Beneda realized that this was a great honor that the acupressure master was offering her. Just as well, then, that the choice was such an easy one to make. "I... yes!" she managed to get out. "Yes, that... It would be _perfect_, sir. Thank you!"

The doctor smiled. "Fair warning: this will be difficult. Even though I may not look it, I can be a hard taskmaster. But I believe that you have what it takes to accomplish what I will ask from you."

Beneda thought back on the events leading up to this moment, the events that had taken her from a lowly foot soldier in Jadeite's army to a friend of the interdimensional conquerors known as the Dark Lords of Nerima, and a giggle rose unbidden to her lips. "Well," she said. "It can't be worse than trying to take over the world again, at least..."

* * *

Her arms crossed, Modra waited alone in a narrow stone tunnel connecting one section of the Dark Kingdom with another. The new leader of the Black Section strained her ears, waiting for the telltale sounds of footsteps that would indicate the approach of the youma she wanted to speak with.

Minute after minute of silence went by, and Modra began to tap her foot impatiently. But then, at last, she heard the sounds she had been listening for, drawing closer and closer. A quick smile crossed her face, and she began to walk toward the footsteps. It seemed that her information had indeed been accurate.

She rounded a bend in the tunnel, and the other youma came into view. "Ah! Thetis!" Modra said, as though the meeting had been complete coincidence. "What a pleasure."

The other youma watched her with a guarded look. Modra, for her part, had to fight back a sneer. Thetis had the ability to take on a human form, in her case a woman with long, hip-length blue hair and a short blue dress. But—unlike most youma with that power—she used it near-constantly, even when she was in the Dark Kingdom. Perhaps she thought doing so would make her more appealing to Jadeite, who she had long been infatuated with.

Whatever her reasons for it, Modra found it revolting and unnatural, but she let none of those feelings show. She wanted the deviant to trust her, after all. "And how is her majesty doing today?" the winged youma continued.

Thetis smiled. Her favored position serving the Queen directly was a source of great pride to her, and Modra began by playing on that. "Her majesty is doing quite well," she replied, preening a little. But then her face fell. "I only wish she would relent on her displeasure with General Jadeite losing so many of his forces—even though he fought so bravely!"

_Perfect,_ Modra gloated to herself, but to all outward appearance she only nodded in sympathy. "It is unfortunate," she said. "I fought alongside him myself against those Dark Lords, and they were terrible opponents. It was only due to his power that we were able to win at all." She sighed. "If only he had some _competent_ assistance. I would not want to see one of my allies destroyed because he was forced to rely on such idiotic, low-ranking youma to carry out his plans."

It was obvious from watching Thetis' face that the words had struck their intended target. "Yes..." she hissed. "You are correct about that much. Trash like that does not deserve to hold a place at General Jadeite's side if they fail him so consistently. If only her majesty would assign me to assist him!"

Modra gave the other youma an appraising glance, making a show of stroking her chin. "Hmmm..." she mused. "Now that you mention it... there _is_ a way you might be able to help the General. It would require going behind the Queen's back, just a little bit, but I'm sure she would understand once she saw the results." She paused. "And Jadeite himself would doubtless be... appreciative."

It was almost pathetic how Thetis' eyes lit up at the bait Modra was dangling in front of her. "Tell me!" she demanded.

"Of course, of course," Modra replied. "But you must tell no one else that I aided you. I am, technically speaking, overstepping my bounds with this." Not that Thetis would need much prompting to act as though it was entirely her idea in front of her beloved General.

Modra had, in fact, come up with an energy-draining scheme that played to Thetis' abilities. The Black Section leader had known that she would never be able to resist the opportunity to rescue the object of her adoration from his current political difficulties. Modra's plan would put Thetis right at Jadeite's side... and right in the path of the Sailor Senshi.

_You lovestruck fool..._ thought Modra contemptuously from behind her smile. _You think you will succeed where every youma before you has failed? I know better. You're no match for the Senshi, and they'll kill you just like they killed all the others. And then your precious General Jadeite will have to explain to the Queen why one of her personal youma was killed assisting him... without her orders._

This, she knew, was the way to deal with Jadeite. Not directly, but with subtlety, with as many invisible daggers as she needed, chipping away at his political standing in ways that could not be traced back to her. Soon enough he would fall, taking the secret of their mutual disgrace with him to the grave. And most importantly, he would not even realize who had done it to him.

_No, you will not kill the Senshi,_ thought Modra, black hatred roiling inside her as she relived the memories of her disgrace. _Not you, not Jadeite, not even the Queen. They are mine to deal with. When that day comes, I will exact my vengeance on them all... and especially on my "savior", Sailor Mars._

Then the leader of the Black Section leaned in closer to the eagerly waiting Thetis. "You see, something in the human world has come to my attention," she said. "Something I think you can use. A cruise ship, in fact. It's old and derelict, but if you applied your particular powers it would make an _excellent_ trap to siphon life energy off of any humans you could get aboard it..."

* * *

Several nights later, Ryouga lay sleeplessly on his bedroll in the guest room of the Tendo home, listening to the irregular, barely-audible thumping that was coming from above. To most, the sounds might have been mysterious, but Ryouga knew exactly what they were, and could visualize in his mind's eye exactly what was taking place on the roof above.

For a while he simply ignored the sounds. But eventually he realized that he was too restless for sleep anyway. Muttering to himself, he climbed to his feet, stepped over Genma's softly snoring body, and made for the door.

This, he knew, was probably foolish. He estimated that he had a better chance of ending up in Osaka than actually reaching the source of the noise. But then, he also knew from experience that he would eventually end up lost again one way or another. At this point both the Dark Kingdom and the Sailor Senshi had been completely fooled, Beneda was safe at Doctor Tofu's, and the consequences of his getting lost would be... not so dire anymore.

He ended up meandering on a leisurely tour of the Tendo compound, starting in the guest room and reaching, by turns, the bathroom, the kitchen, Nabiki's room, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, Soun's room, back to the guest room, Akane's room, the kitchen, the dojo, and finally the living room once again.

After that, he finally found himself outside, in the yard next to the pond, staring up at the night sky. The pale moon illuminated everything in faint, spectral light. Turning in a full circle, he caught sight of the source of the soft thumping noises.

Ranma stood perched atop the house in a fighting stance, on the highest point of the roof, balancing on the precarious edge it formed as though it were a wide sidewalk. As Ryouga looked on, the pigtailed fighter launched himself down the roof's length, his hands and feet lashing out in intricate, blindingly-fast combinations, repelling imaginary enemies coming at him from every angle.

The lost boy felt a flash of jealousy as he watched the fluid movement and incredible precision with which Ranma performed his kata. The lost boy's style of fighting was dangerous in its own right, but it was a brutal and direct thing, cobbled together from whatever disassociated bits and pieces he could pick up on his constant travels, then honed in countless fights against human and animal foes. And—while he still hoped to _beat_ Ranma one day—he knew that in terms of this _artistry_, it was one area in which he had virtually no chance of catching up to his rival.

Eventually, Ranma finished the kata, then glanced down to where Ryouga stood. "Couldn't sleep either?"

The lost boy nodded his head in agreement. Ranma made a single leap, arcing through the air to land next to the lost boy. "Yeah, I had a lot to think about," the pigtailed fighter went on. "Figured a little practice might clear my head."

"Did it?" asked Ryouga.

"Not really." Ranma sighed. "I dunno. What do _you_ think about Cologne's plan, P-chan?"

Ryouga shot him a brief glare over the P-chan crack, but then responded with a shrug. "Well, she says that the Senshi need more experience if we're going to win this, and she knows more than any of us about that kind of thing. I don't exactly like the idea of leaving those girls to fight alone for now, but Cologne seems to think they can handle it."

"Mmm..." A pensive frown crossed Ranma's features. "Yeah, I know she thinks so. I'm just worried she might be wrong this time. Did you notice how she was talking about the Senshi, Ryouga? How _all_ those elders were talking about them? They see the Senshi as..."

His voice trailed off, and he waved his hand toward the heavens. "I don't even know _what_ they see them as. Heroes? Goddesses?" He shook his head. "I'm not even sure they honestly believe those girls _can_ lose this."

The lost boy let Ranma's words sink in for a moment. The Joketsuzoku certainly tended toward this sort of instruction-by-fire in the first place. His _own_ experience with their teaching methods had consisted mainly of Cologne smashing a giant boulder into him over and over again until he had figured out the Bakusai Tenketsu. How much more faith would they place in the abilities of figures that their tribe had revered for untold generations?

He swallowed. "So... what do we do?"

"I'm not sure yet," replied Ranma. "Just... keep your eyes open, for now. Cologne says they need to get experience? Okay, fine. They can get that fighting youma. That much, we've seen they can handle. But against the likes of Jadeite..."

The name prompted Ryogua to think back to their own fight with the Dark General, and he nodded in grim agreement. "He's out of their league. If he makes a move himself, we'll need to find some way to help them. Quietly, without the Dark Kingdom or the Senshi _or_ Cologne realizing it."

"Pretty much," agreed Ranma. "Besides, we've got unfinished business with Jadeite ourselves... and it's something I'd like to see through to the end."


	24. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Ranma 1/2 or Sailor Moon in any way, shape or form. All associated characters, trademarks, etc. are the property of Rumiko Takahashi and Naoko Takeuchi. I'm just telling some stories about them.

**Author's Note:** And... here we are. The final installment of "The Dark Lords of Nerima."

Thank you all _so_ much for reading. It's been an honor, a pleasure and a blessing to be able to spin out this story with you, and I'm grateful to all of you who took the time to follow it.

Of course, as I mentioned previously, this is by no means the end of _everything_ overall. Even as this epilogue ties up the last few loose ends of this story, it's also setting up for what's to come. The next section will be posted as a separate fic: a three-chapter interlude titled "The Dark Lords Strike Back"—wherein the battle against the Dark Kingdom shifts into high gear.

And now, without further ado...

* * *

Epilogue

Several weeks later, Ranma made his way groggily down the stairs, yawning as he headed toward the Tendo living room. Morning, he reflected, had come _entirely_ too early.

His body was still aching slightly whenever he moved, the aftereffects of the duel he'd had yesterday against Ryouga. It had been a particularly tricky fight—even if he would never admit that fact aloud. The lost boy's tenacity and strength had been problematic enough to deal with _before_ he had gone and found a technique that let him weaponize his feelings of depression as an actual ki attack.

Fortunately, however, Ranma had figured out a counter for the Shi Shi Hokodan and won the battle. Not to mention that he had gotten a new technique of his own in the bargain. Even if his Moko Takabisha hadn't quite stood up to the "perfect" version of Ryouga's technique on its own, the pigtailed fighter still preferred his modification over the original.

And even more than just the victory, Ranma was enjoying what it represented: a return—for the moment—to simpler problems, like a straightforward duel against his most persistent rival. It marked a much-needed respite from battles over the fate of the world in favor of more normal things, like getting attacked by high-velocity projections of someone's life force.

The Dark Kingdom had pulled completely out of Nerima. It had been weeks since anyone had sensed a youma, disguised or otherwise, during the periodic sweeps of the area that the martial artists had taken to performing. And although the Senshi had returned—mostly to eat at Ucchan's or the Nekohanten—the distance between the two wards made that a relatively infrequent occurrence as well. There had been a close call or two, but the secret was still safe on all fronts.

"Ranma!"

The pigtailed fighter glanced over to see who had called him, and his eyebrows went up a little at the sight of the girl standing there. She was adapting well to human clothing lately, dressed in a white blouse and a long blue skirt, and she had also taken to tying her silver hair back into a ponytail. "Hey Beneda!" he said. "Haven't seen you in a while. What've you been up to?"

The sometime-youma sighed, a bit wearily. "Training," she answered. "Also, training. And in addition, more training. I'm learning a lot... but Doctor Tofu wasn't joking when he said this would be intensive."

Ranma laughed. "I know the feeling," he said. "But don't worry, you get used to it sooner than you'd think. Anyway, what brings you out here so early?"

"I just wanted to catch you before you left for school," Beneda said, reaching into her pocket as she did so. "I saw this in a store yesterday, and I thought you'd find it funny."

She pulled her hand back out, revealing what she had brought: a small, plush Sailor Moon doll. Ranma took it from her with an amused laugh, examining the chibi figure of his former opponent. "Pretty good likeness, actually. Come to think of it, I've been seeing a whole lot more of this Senshi merchandise these days."

Beneda nodded. "I heard that someone somewhere finally got a clear photo of the Senshi not too long ago, and sold it to a bunch of magazines and toy companies. No one knows who did it... but whoever it was, they must have made out like a bandit." As she spoke Ranma's ears caught a faint noise coming from back upstairs—almost like the sound of someone sneezing.

The pigtailed boy opened his mouth to speak more, but he was interrupted by the sudden ringing of the telephone. Since he was the closest person, he walked over to it and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Ranma!" The breathless voice on the other end was Ukyo's. "Did you hear what happened last night? What are we going to do about it?"

"Wait, wait, hold on a sec..." Ranma frowned, trying to make sense out of what his old friend was saying. "Last night? This is the first I've heard of anything out of the ordinary. What happened?"

"Turn on the television! It's all over the news!"

Puzzled, Ranma nevertheless set the receiver down and hurried into the living room. Akane was already there, eating breakfast with P-chan nestled comfortably in her lap. Ranma ignored them, instead flicking on the television set.

_"—menacing apparition that appeared in the sky over Minato Ward last night,"_ were the newscaster's first words that Ranma heard. _"Here, once again, is the best recording we have of the sensational demands that it delivered."_

The screen cut to a grainy view of the Tokyo skyline, the image wobbling slightly as though captured by a handheld video camera. Ranma sucked in a quick hiss of breath. Looming over the city was a huge, semi-transparent image of a very familiar blond man, with a glare on his face.

_"I am Jadeite!"_ the Dark General's image announced. _"Listen closely, Sailor Moon, Sailor Mercury and Sailor Mars! Haneda Airport at 1AM tomorrow. Come to runway F. But if you do not..."_ Jadeite's eyes glowed, and he launched a sphere of fire down from his mouth. In an instant, the entire cityscape was enveloped in flame.

After a few seconds, Jadeite snapped his fingers. _"That was just an illusion!"_ he said, before leaning in closer. _"But if you do not show up... I will burn Tokyo to the ground!"_ And with that, the huge image vanished.

For a moment Ranma simply stood there, staring at the screen as the newscaster resumes his commentary. Then he turned to look at P-chan, who looked back at him, grim expressions on both their faces.

* * *

Later that night, Jadeite watched from high atop the airport's control tower, looking down contemptuously at the human policemen patrolling the runway. It was absurd. Did they actually think to intrude on his battle? They were barely even worthy of notice... but even so, he didn't want them blundering about.

"I have no business with you people," he intoned, directing a superior smile at their oblivious forms. "So you can sleep for a while."

With that he raised his arms, sending out wave after wave of his dark magic, blanketing the area. The spell took hold of the unaware officers almost immediately, and they began toppling over where they stood.

Too easy.

No, the real test was yet to come. And he would not risk the slightest interruption to his plan, even if it meant wasting his time brushing aside insects like these. Queen Beryl's fury with him had reached a boiling point with the death of her youma Thetis, and she had made it clear that this was his last chance.

Either he would kill the Senshi for her... or she would bestow a fate worse than death on him.

So he stood there, alone, looking out over the sleeping city as he waited for his enemies, waited for the final battle that would decide everything. The cold night breeze whispered past him, spreading its chill wherever it went.

And carried on that whisper of a breeze, he thought for a moment that he could almost hear the whisper of a voice, a figment of his memory. It was the voice of a small cat, speaking to him in front of a school with a resigned voice that contained just a hint of pity. _"And if your strength isn't enough, someday?"_ the whisper asked him. _"If someday your Queen doesn't find you so useful anymore?"_

_"Who will stand up for you then?"_

The Dark General clenched his fist, and angrily shook his head, banishing all such thoughts from his mind. It was prattle, the voice of weakness, and he refused to entertain it even for a moment. He was _not_ going to fail this time. He would stand on his own power, he would triumph, and he would regain Queen Beryl's favor.

He would accept no other outcome.

* * *

With a rush of sensation and stomach-twisting vertigo, Tuxedo Kamen's consciousness asserted itself.

The events leading up to it were—as with every time he awoke—a tangled blur to him. Aside from a few scattered, indistinct images, he had no awareness of who he had been before the transformation took hold of him, just as he suspected his other self had no knowledge of his actions as a masked vigilante.

But he had no time to be disoriented. His awakening had come, as it usually did, with the stomach-churning certainty that Sailor Moon was in danger. He didn't know who she was either, nor what her connection was to him that she could affect him in this way. The only thing he did know, with absolute certainty, was that he would not let any harm come to her.

He took stock of his situation, and found that he was on the outskirts of an airport. Sailor Moon's location could not be seen from where he stood, but he knew it all the same, though he did not know exactly how. He moved swiftly and silently through the deserted place, keeping to the shadows to hide his approach, until he arrived at the edge of the main airstrip and surveyed the situation.

The battle did not seem to be going well for the Senshi. They were running for their lives, away from a pair of jetliners that were barreling after them. And the source of the planes' malevolent behavior was not hard to deduce when he caught sight of Jadeite himself, standing high atop the nearby control tower, gloating down at them.

Tuxedo Kamen waited, not wanting to show his hand prematurely, but he quickly realized that time was running out. The Dark General had the Senshi trapped against the ocean that stretched out along the far side of the airfield, with nowhere left to flee as the huge plane hurtled toward them. With nothing for it, the masked man made a mighty leap, shooting up behind Jadeite and throwing down a rose from midair.

The floral projectile slashed past Jadeite's face, causing the general to jerk his head back. His concentration broken, he lost his telekinetic hold on the planes, and the massive machines rolled to a stop. At the same time, Tuxedo Kamen landed atop the control tower as well, steeling himself for battle. "Are you having fun bullying these helpless girls?" he asked.

"You appear again, Tuxedo Kamen," replied Jadeite, turning to face his attacker, an arrogant smile on his face. "I'll send you to hell along with those three!"

"A villain who toys with innocent people," shot back the masked man confidently. "You will not get away with it."

For several long moments they stood there, sizing each other up, while the Senshi called out encouragement from below. Then Jadeite made his move. With a shout of _"Die!"_ he raised his hands and unleashed a torrent of pale lightning at his opponent.

Tuxedo Kamen leapt high into the air, Jadeite's attack licking at his heels as he cleared it. The Dark General leapt into the air as well, flying up to engage the masked man. The two of them spun through the air, whirling around each other, looking for an opening.

Jadeite found it first. He flew forward, plowing straight into Tuxedo Kamen with bone-jarring force. The two men plummeted in a long, elliptical arc, Jadeite driving them downward until they crashed deep into the ice-cold water with a large splash.

The impact knocked some of the air from Tuxedo Kamen's lungs in a stream of bubbles, but he managed to keep most of it in. He lashed out with a kick, aimed at Jadeite's rib cage, but the water surrounding them slowed the attack, and the Dark General took it on his forearm.

With a flick of his wrist, Tuxedo Kamen drew another rose. He couldn't throw it well underwater, so instead he simply swung the tip dagger-like at Jadeite's chest. But the Dark General's hand shot up, catching his opponent's arm at the wrist, locking it in place. Then the blond man raised his other hand, palm outward.

There was a rumbling sound, and then behind Jadeite, cracks began to appear in the underwater part of the airfield's concrete foundation. _His telekinesis!_ Tuxedo Kamen realized. _He's—_

But he had no chance to complete the thought, as a large chunk of the foundation ripped free and shot straight at him. He tried to twist out of the way, but Jadeite held him tightly in place, and the projectile hammered straight into his chest. The blow crushed the remaining air from his lungs, and he lost his grip on the rose, which floated upward toward the surface.

Before the masked man could even begin to recover his senses, more chunks of concrete were slamming into him from every angle, battering him further down. One hit him right between the shoulder blades, driving him all the way to the bottom.

He had no air left. His consciousness was fading. And still the projectiles struck him, burying him under a pile of rubble, a funeral cairn trapping his body here as he died.

The last thing he saw, before his vision faded to black, was Jadeite levitating back up toward the surface, back up toward Sailor Moon.

* * *

_Water,_ thought Ranma darkly, as he watched Jadeite and Tuxedo Kamen go plummeting from their position atop the control tower and into the sea. _Of course! A whole freaking airport to fight in, and they just had to take it into the water._

He couldn't think of many worse directions the fight could have gone. Ryouga would be near-useless in such a setting, cutting their available manpower in half. Worse, even for Ranma it would be a much more difficult proposition to interfere surreptitiously, should his help be needed.

Muttering under his breath about how things never went according to plan, he spun away from the window of the small building at the side of the airstrip that he and Ryouga had been peeking out from. "Stay here!" he hissed over his shoulder at the lost boy. "I'll follow those two!"

With that, he darted out the back exit, keeping the building between him and the Senshi as much as he could as he raced in a blur of speed toward the water's edge. Without pausing, he leapt off in a graceful dive, vanishing beneath the surface with barely a ripple. He became a she in the process, but she barely even noticed in light of the more pressing concerns.

Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, murky water, just in time to see the distant figure of Jadeite pummeling Tuxedo Kamen with shards of concrete torn from the airstrip's foundation. _This is bad!_ the pigtailed fighter thought. The Dark General had chosen his battle ground frighteningly well. His powers were hard enough to avoid normally; it would be near-suicide to fight him down here, with the additional encumbrance of the water.

_My only shot is a sneak attack,_ Ranma thought. _Circle in from behind and hit him, maybe make him breathe in some water. See how he likes it down here then._ But before she could put the plan into action Jadeite began to levitate back upward, leaving Tuxedo Kamen's prone form buried under the mound of debris.

Ranma made a quick judgment call. Jadeite could wait. Ryouga was still up there watching over the girls, and he would intervene if things started to get bad. For now, rescuing Tuxedo Kamen was the most pressing need. Accordingly, she swam down to where the masked vigilante was lying, her body cutting through the water like a shark.

She reached the unconscious man in seconds, her hands reaching down and flinging off the debris left and right. As soon as she had cleared enough, she dragged the man free and kicked off the ground back toward the surface, carrying Tuxedo Kamen along with her.

They broke the surface near where Ranma had first dived in, far enough along the water's edge to avoid being seen by the Senshi or blasted by Jadeite. Ranma dragged Tuxedo Kamen out of the water and behind one of the buildings. "Come on..." the pigtailed girl muttered, as she turned the masked man over and began to slap him on the back, wishing she had studied more about how this kind of first aid should actually work. "Come _on!_"

To her relief, Tuxedo Kamen's body soon convulsed and began to cough up water. Immediately Ranma darted away, slipping back into the building they had been hiding in originally. She did hold the door open a crack, though, peering out to watch as Tuxedo Kamen slowly pulled himself to his feet. The man was looking around in utter befuddlement, obviously trying to figure out how on earth he had gone from being trapped underwater to laying on the surface.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Ranma quietly closed the door and jogged over to where Ryouga was still crouched at the window. "Hey," she said as she approached. "Did you have to help those girls any yet? Take any shots at Jadeite?"

Ryouga shook his head. "Haven't needed to," he replied. "They're kicking his ass. Look."

Ranma looked out the window, and saw that her rival was right. Jadeite was no longer flying, but rather fleeing desperately down the runway. Somehow, the planes that he had been directing toward the Senshi were now being dragged inexorably toward _him_. The pigtailed fighter let out a low whistle. "How'd they pull _that_ off?"

"I didn't really see most of it, since the Mercury girl had her mist up," replied Ryouga. "But it looks like one of them snuck up behind him in the fog, while the other two distracted him. Slapped some kind of ward or something on his back. It messed him up pretty good, and made all his magic go haywire."

"Well that's a neat trick," said Ranma. Certainly their own battle against Jadeite would have been over much faster if they'd been able to pull off something like that. Either way, though, it looked as though any worries about the threat he posed were about to be rendered moot. Even as Ranma watched, Sailor Moon drew back her tiara and hurled it at the general.

Jadeite managed to fling himself out of the weapon's path, but in his jumbled state he could not regain his balance and he fell to the ground. He pulled himself back up to one knee... but not quickly enough.

As the general raised his head, one of the jetliners caught up with him. He had time for one horrified scream, before he was run down by the enormous machine, his own telekinesis crushing it into him. His body twisted and writhed, and Ranma imagined that she could hear the snapping of bone even at their distance.

The pigtailed girl turned to look at Ryouga. "So much for him..." she said, jerking her thumb back toward the general's crumpled form. "You know, those girls didn't do half bad. Well, okay, the tuxedo guy would've been toast if we hadn't been here... but considering who they were up against I think they did all right for themselves."

She took another glance out across the airstrip... and noted to her mild surprise that Jadeite's body was now gone. That was unsettling. Did Dark Generals do the whole "turn to dust" thing when they died, like their youma did? Or had Jadeite managed to survive after all, and teleport away once again?

Ryouga's voice cut into her ruminations. "You know..." he told her. "At this point, I'm not sure we really need to keep what we did a secret from the Senshi anymore. We could probably just tell them the whole story of what happened."

"Why?" was Ranma's response, turning back to her rival. "What if we tell them, and it turns out they still want to go after Beneda for what she did? Or what if they just plain don't believe us?"

"You don't think they'd listen to our explanation?" asked Ryouga skeptically.

"Ryouga, I can't _remember_ the last time a girl listened to an explanation I tried to give for something," Ranma shot back. "Why risk everything blowing up again? We're set the way things are. I think it's better to just stay in the shadows for now, and wait for our moment—like Cologne said."

"I suppose..." Ryouga said, not sounding entirely convinced. "I'm all for letting sleeping dogs lie, of course... but at the same time, what if they _do_ find out?"

The lost boy leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he continued to talk. "Hell, even if we do manage to stay behind the scenes through this whole Dark Kingdom business, they could still stumble onto us by accident later on. And if they find us like that—when we've been hiding from them—it'll look even _worse_ for us, on top of everything else we've already done."

Ranma waved her hand dismissively. "Ah, you worry too much, P-chan," she said. "I mean... seriously. What're the odds of that happening?"

**~ end part one ~**


End file.
